


Prince of Lies

by GongsunDu



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dark, F/M, Finished Story, Original Character(s), Regret, Romance, Thriller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-08-10 20:35:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 61,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20141608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GongsunDu/pseuds/GongsunDu
Summary: Katara and Zuko's marriage is falling apart after years of abuse. Seeing an opportunity, an ambitious crime boss begins to manipulate the young Fire Lord. But when a mysterious string of murders plagues the Capital and a long lost friend returns from exile the lies that maintain this post-war world are set to collapse. Nothing is as it seems.





	1. The Past and Present

_ **The forests green, the flowers bloom** _

_ **The clouds gathered with the morning dew** _

_ **I loved him then and never knew** _

_ **While he spoke to me through honest eyes** _

_ **He was in fact the Prince of Lies** _

_ **  
** _

Katara woke with a start. The sun was bright red against the pale horizon. She rubbed her eyes wearily–her night had been cold and restless. Turning over on her side, she saw the other half of the bed was empty.

Of course _he_ wasn't there. Why would he be, thought Katara. She had long since gotten used to the lonely nights. Most of the time she barely cared. But last night she had had the dream again. The nightmare that plagued her every so often. And now her mind was in turmoil.

She felt her stomach twist and turn. The barriers she had put up so tentatively washed away in an instant. Regret poured through the cracks, seemed from the recesses of her mind, at last overwhelming her. She felt a warm tear slide down her cheek. Once more she allowed herself the question–why?

Why was everything so wrong? Why was every day filled with pain? Why had she been so stupid? Why had she chosen him?

"Because I loved him." she whispered, the words dying in the cold air around her. 'And because I thought he loved me too.'

Another tear slid down her face. Closing her eyes to stop the flow, she felt her mind drift back to the dream. Back to that day she could never forget.

'_Katara.' She looked away, avoiding his eyes, pretending not to see._

'_Aang, I know what this is about. Please don't.' He took her by the hand and caught her gaze. She saw those grey eyes filled with grief and she almost gave in then and there. But she forced herself to remain steadfast. 'I'm sorry Aang, but–"_

'_Katara I love you.' He smiled at her warmly and she felt herself returning the smile. She saw his eyes begin to fill with hope and that brought her to her senses._

'_I'm sorry Aang, but I can't return your feelings. I know it's not what you want to hear, but that's the truth.' The look on his face nearly broke her heart._

'_Why Katara? We've been through so much together. You know how I've felt for a long time. On the day of Black Sun we–'_

'_That was a mistake.' she said coldly. 'We were merely caught up in the moment.'_

'_No, what happened there was real. I know it was.' said Aang with renewed determination._

'_Things are different now, Aang. You have to forget the past. I…I love Zuko now.' She saw the tears in his eyes and looked away. Biting her lip, she continued. 'And he loves me. Please, be happy for us. We…can still be friends.'_

'_You know that's not possible.' said Aang, his voice trembling. 'Goodbye, Katara.'_

_She looked up and saw his glider soaring through the air. The realization struck her, he was leaving forever._

'_Aang!' she cried out, but he never turned back and she never saw him again._

* * *

Zuko tied his hair and slid the golden headgear into place. He was Fire Lord, undisputed leader, ruler of the Fire Nation–the greatest of all the nations.

He heard the soft feminine sigh and turned around. Mai was still asleep. He had been careful not to wake her. Not that he loved her, or even cared for her–he just wanted the morning to be silent. Zuko relished the quiet.

He yawned contentedly. Katara would no doubt be difficult today. He had not been to their room in weeks. The last time had been pathetic.

She had known about his mistresses for some time, but had kept up the facade of ignorance. Even so he had felt the cold disdain. The distance between them. It was her own fault really. She had failed in her role as a wife. Failed to please him.

A few weeks ago he had at last grown tired of pretending and finally let his true feelings surface.

'What's wrong, my lord?' she had asked, she had long since stopped calling him Zuko.

'You're terrible Katara.' He had said, climbing out of the bed and putting his clothes on. 'Do you even know how to please a man?'

He saw the rage in her eyes as she hissed back. 'You call yourself a man? What kind of man talks to a woman that way–to his own wife?'

'Perhaps if you acted like a wife, instead of a statue, I would feel more obligated.'

'You bastard.' she screamed, losing any control she had left. 'How dare you insult me, you whore-mongering garbage.'

He smirked and continued to put on his clothes. The smug look on his face made Katara shake with fury.

'Well let's face it Katara,' said Zuko nonchalantly, 'A man has needs. And since you are _incapable_, I have the right to fulfill them elsewhere.'

'You're the one who is incapable!' she seethed.

'Lying to cover up your own incompetence. Is there no low you won't sink to? I guess I should expect no less from an ignorant peasant.'

Zuko saw the attack before it came and easily caught her by the arms. Katara writhed in his hold but could not escape it. The anger in her eyes brought him back to when they had met in Ba-Sing-Se. She had become more of a woman then, her shapely figure had been the first thing he noticed. But it was her gaze, those strong blue eyes that had attracted him most of all.

Seeing her dress undone, her breasts exposed ever so slightly, Zuko began to feel the familiar ache in his groin. He adjusted his hold, and snaked his free hand around one breast. He felt her pulling away, but he held fast, stroking the nipple with his thumb and index finger.

Katara bit her lower lip–the whisper of a moan escaping against her will. Zuko began to move his hand lower. Down her smooth stomach and slender abdomen, drawing closer to her nether regions. That was when she kicked him. Hard. Losing control, he backhanded her fiercely. The shock of the blow sent her sprawling on the bed.

'Stupid bitch.' He cursed, not hearing her sobs.

He threw off his clothes, and climbed onto the bed. Katara still lay there in pain, clutching her swollen cheek. But Zuko saw none of it. He tore off her dress with one motion and turned her on her back. She tried to crawl away but he pulled her towards him.

'Incapable am I?' He raised her rear in the air and entered her mercilessly. She cried out in pain but he went on, thrusting hard.

Katara screamed in agony as he picked up the pace. Tightening his grip on her as he thrust–his nails sinking deep into her skin–Zuko felt himself drawing closer, ecstasy mere moments away. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over him as he entered deeper. He no longer heard her tortured cries, there was only one thought on his mind. At last he came, the release giving him brief satisfaction.

As the rage finally left him, he climbed out of the bed. Katara's cries continued to echo through the room.

He had said nothing as he finished getting dressed. When he closed the door, he could still hear her stifled sobs.

"Leaving so soon?" Mai's voice brought him back to the here and now.

"Afraid so." He looked in the mirror and adjusted the headgear.

"Mmm." She moaned as she got out of the bed. Walking over to Zuko, she embraced him from behind. "Stay for a while." She purred, sliding her hand towards his groin. "If you feel up to it." Zuko caught her hand in his own and spun her around so she faced him,

"Not now, my pet." The corner of his mouth curled into a smile. "I've got business to attend to. We'll resume our little conversation later tonight."

"You always were difficult, Zuko." She said with a sigh.

In response he pulled her close and kissed her passionately. She returned the kiss with all her heart. Slowly her doubts began to wash away as the kiss grew deeper. When at last they parted, Zuko bid her farewell.

"Try not to miss me." He said, before leaving her in the quasi-darkness of the room.

As he walked down the grand staircase, Zuko smiled to himself. Laughing at his own private joke. Mai meant little to him. She was merely a pleasant distraction in his day to day drudgery. He had thought of making her his first consort. After all he was Fire Lord. All Fire Lords had them, his own father had four. And twice as many mistresses.

Now those, Zuko had in abundance. Every man should have a mistress, his father had told him when he was only beginning to learn of such things. Zuko had asked his mother what a mistress was, to which his mother responded with a strange look in her eyes and a calm 'Go practice your bending Zuzu'. It was only much later that he realized the emotion behind those eyes. Frustration.

Frustration is the core of any marriage, thought Zuko decidedly. One woman for the rest of your life? Absurd. And yet for a time he had thought it could work.

Zuko turned the corner and strolled out onto the massive foyer. The garden was still partially living. The cold weather had not touched many of the trees. In fact, the sakuras were in full bloom.

Zuko warmed his body with his breath of fire and continued his walk, stopping by one of the many statues in the garden. It was a statue of his beloved Uncle Iroh. The sculptor had placed great emphasis the Dragon of the West's infamous smile and the limitless strength behind his eyes.

"Would you be proud of me Uncle?" Zuko looked up at the statue. "Of course not. But then, you always thought highly of me. Perhaps that was your mistake. I told you you would be better suited for the job. But you insisted."

The statue continued to smile, the eyes matching his gaze. Reading his thoughts and feelings. Zuko tightened his fist.

"Now do you see?" he shouted. "Now do you realize your mistake?" Iroh continued to smile kindly.

"You damn old fool." muttered Zuko. "Atleast you didn't live to regret your decision."

Zuko returned his thoughts to the matter at hand. Mai would make a suitable consort. Her family was both rich and of sufficient standing. Certainly a good start. More would follow in time.

Mai will be ecstatic at the news, thought Zuko, perhaps tonight will turn out interesting. More importantly, Katara will be furious. This would definitely put the defiant Fire Lady back in her place. Zuko smiled at the perfection of his plan.

Perhaps in time her temperament would cool. And then things would be as they were in the beginning.

But Zuko knew that was unlikely. They had both grown up since that moment. And he now realized just how inadequate Katara was for the position. How ill bred.

When they had married he had thought the world of her. Their first time together had been amazing. So filled with love, which he now knew was a lie, and flowing with passion. He had marveled at the beauty of her. The perfect shape and color of her body. Now he could barely stand the sight of her.

Zuko put the irritating thought aside for later. He had much to do today. And much to look forward to.


	2. Fire Lord Zuko

"Your majesty." The ornately dressed man bowed low. The two servants at his sides bowed even lower.

"Arise." said Zuko lethargically. Official receptions always tired him out. Sitting on his father's throne was tedious.

"You may approach the throne." said the chamberlain in his regal tone. The group of people slowly advanced, making their way towards the throne. If they were lucky, Fire Lord Zuko would hear them out. If not…

The queue for an audience with the Fire Lord was longer than usual. But then again, there were so many problems in the world: Earthquakes in the East, drought in the Southern islands, a recent series of volcanic eruptions that nearly flattened Fire Fountain City, not to mention the usual crime, poverty, and whispers of rebellion. All this had to be addressed and with luck, fixed by the Fire Lord.

Zuko gave an inaudible sigh as the group reached the official stand for their audience a few meters from the perpetual flames surrounding his throne. They waited patiently, by custom the Fire Lord must first acknowledge their presence and spark a conversation which would, depending on the patience of its participants, eventually lead to the issue at hand. For now, the throne room was silent except for the occasionally hiss of the fire.

A few minutes passed and still Zuko did not speak. He did not even look in their direction. He had learned that it was best to keep people in suspense. To unsettle them with prolonged silence. If all went well they would make a mistake, and then he would correct them–all of this designed to make them lose face and therefore lose the privilege of asking anything of him. And if they should prove to be strong enough of nerves to make it to the actual conversation, why he had many more traps all carefully planned out.

The guards of the Royal Procession lined the walls of the room, their malignant helmets seemed to perpetually stare at the guests by virtue of their design. But the guards inside were indeed staring. Analyzing every movement, every breath. Anticipating everything. The Fire Lord's safety was their sole objective. And they would not fail.

The trio felt the probing stares at the nape of their necks, but they put on a face of outward calm. They had to be strong, or risk losing everything. Zuko glanced at them from the corner of his eye. They were a pathetic bunch, hardly worthy of his time. Their clothes, while ornate, were not noble. It was probably another merchant complaining about pirates. How he hated merchants. Zuko would have gladly thrown them out then and there, but politics was a tricky game. One with many rules.

He remembered his first lesson in politics with his father when he was only seven. The throne room had been as it was now. Torrid with trepidation. Fire Lord Ozai had taken great pleasure in receptions. They were a means to demonstrate his power and skill. He would slowly pick apart the visitors one by one. Sometimes allowing them to get within inches of their goal, only to crush their hopes when they least expected it. Of course, there were those who would not be crushed. And they were the ones who would gain his ear. But just occasionally he would crush them too–for his own satisfaction.

'Only listen to those who are worthy, Zuko.' He had said as the guards led another group away. 'Anything less and you disgrace the title of Fire Lord.'

'But father, what about them? What did they do wrong?'

'Silence Zuko!' the young prince felt the tears well up at the sudden rage, but he forced them down. Knowing the punishment for weakness.

'People need to be put in their place. Even if they have done nothing wrong. **That **is what true power is. A Fire Lord must always dominate his subjects. Even the wisest, richest, most powerful noble is **nothing** compared to me! Remember that, Zuko.'

Yes, Fire Lord Ozai was many things. But stupid was certainly not one of them. It was funny to Zuko how much his opinions had changed over the years. Ever since he had first donned the golden crown he had felt himself changing. So much so that now he wondered if perhaps the position itself was what had made his father a monster.

Deciding that he had kept his guests waiting long enough, Zuko cleared his mind of all thoughts, compartmentalizing them for later, and began what he hoped would be a pleasant challenge.

"Greetings kind guests. Welcome to my throne room, I hope I have not kept you waiting too long."

"Not at all, your majesty." The man smiled on the surface.

"Good. I understand you hail from our Eastern islands."

"Yes, your majesty."

"Tang-Shong Island was it?"

"Actu-" the man caught himself just in time. It was considered a grave insult to correct the Fire Lord. One that, under Ozai, had been punished by death. The man feigned a cough and continued, "Forgive me, your majesty. Yes we hail from the East."

"Ah, and how is the weather there?" asked Zuko, pleased that the man was educated enough to avoid such an obvious trap. His decision to affirm the second part of the question saved him face, whilst at the same time preventing any effrontery to the Fire Lord.

"Marvelous as always, your majesty. Though not as good as in the capital."

Zuko smirked. The man hailed from Tang-Kai, where the weather was notoriously bad this time of year. By that train of thought he was saying: 'The capital is as horrible as it was under your father.' Zuko allowed him the small insult, for his wittiness he deserved atleast that much.

"I hear the merchants there are having problems." Zuko laughed in his mind when he saw the anger in the man's eyes. He had guessed correctly.

"Your majesty knows a great deal about the plight of his subjects."

"Yes, a good Fire Lord must stay informed on such matters. But I hear there are worse calamities in the Earth Kingdom." The man barely concealed his frustration. Zuko was baiting him, dangling his troubles in his face as if to fix them, only to steer the conversation elsewhere. He had known this would not be easy. His patience was running thin.

"The Earth Kingdom is the Earth Kingdom, your majesty. Their troubles are their own."

"But they often have far reaching effects. Say pirates, for example." A dark shadow formed under the merchant's eyes. "Some Earth Kingdom groups sometimes stray into our waters."

"Yes, such scum are well known in the East." said the merchant gruffly.

"Are they much of a nuisance?" asked Zuko absentmindedly. "I would hate for there to be an incident."

The merchant tightened his fists and thought, 'You know damn well they're a nuisance. They've captured four of my ships, and a hundred others. They may be Earth Kingdom, but that does not mean you should sit idly by, all high and mighty on your throne, while the rest of us are looted out of job and home! You know damn well too that if you don't do something, there will be an incident. And by the spirits, it won't be pretty!'

"Something the matter?" asked Zuko innocently.

"N-not at all, your majesty."

Zuko glanced at the next group in the queue and decided it was best to finish this quickly. He was not his father–he did not get the same pleasure from governing the Fire Nation. To him it was merely a task. At the idea of pleasure, Zuko thought of the bath, the massage, and the evening with Mai that would soon follow. He wondered how she would react to his decision to make her his first consort. Perhaps he should wait. Tell her tomorrow. Keep her in suspense. Perhaps it would be more fun to spend the night with one of his latest conquests: the young and beautiful Lien Yun who, if rumors were true, was still virgin. The corner of his mouth curled.

"But enough with the pleasantries," said Zuko, and the merchant breathed a sigh of relief. "What brings you here today?"

"Your majesty, I would not dream to think myself worthy to offer advice. Or to say anything that may affront yourself or the most noble and most powerful position that you occupy. If I may, I wish to merely tell you of my miserable plight, in the hopes that you, in all your great wisdom, may condescend to hear it."

Zuko nodded his head with authority, "I'm listening."

"I, and my fellow merchants of the Three Fires Guild, as well as the merchants of the other guilds have been the victims of countless attacks by pirates who fly the Maelstrom flag."

"Truly?" said Zuko with feigned shock. "I did not think Earth Kingdom pirates had such an impact on our shipping."

"I'm afraid so, your majesty."

"Well this is grave news indeed. I thank you for your honesty and candor," continued Zuko. "I shall certainly do my best to protect the interests and the businesses of my loyal subjects."

"Your majesty gives me great honor." The man bowed very low. "Please, accept this gift as a token of appreciation from all of the merchant guilds. We hope it will show our sincerest gratitude for this audience."

The two servants moved closer, their heads bowed, and placed two chests before the throne. Opening them with one smooth motion, they revealed them to be filled with rubies of the finest quality.

"I thank you for this fine gift." said Zuko, the fortune before his eyes hardly fazing him at all. "Please, have a safe journey home, and know that your issue shall be given the gravest consideration."

"Thank you, your majesty." The trio bowed once more and stepped back the appropriate distance before rising, turning around, and heading out. Two servants carried the chests away.

"Lord Akio." announced the herald. A tall man with strong noble features, a clean shaven face, jet black hair neatly packed under silver headgear, and keen grey eyes approached the throne. On his left was a pretty woman in her twenties, of an age with him. Her hair was lighter, her eyes golden, and her rich attire was eclipsed only by that of the man.

As soon as the pair bowed Zuko said, "Arise." The chamberlain invited them to approach and Zuko smiled as the man bowed once more.

"Your majesty." said Akio, in his pleasant tone.

"Lord Akio, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"The usual I'm afraid."

"Ah," Zuko waved his hand and the herald and chamberlain left the room. The guards closed the doors and stood at a respectable distance, so as not to appear to be eavesdropping. As the last guard fell into line, Zuko resumed. "How are things?"

"Good, good. Business is flourishing."

"So I have heard. Who's the girl?" asked Zuko.

"Ume, my new assistant." Zuko looked her over. She was pretty, her features rather plain, but her figure was full and enticing. Still, he wondered why Akio had chosen her to replace his old assistant–the victim of a botched assassination on her boss.

"So, I heard you've recently muscled out the Red Turban Gang?"

"Oh, so the secret's out, huh? I'd hoped we could keep the commotion minimal as we consolidate our hold on their territory."

"My spies are good, it's not for a lack of discretion on your part."

"Ah, but if your spies knew so quickly, that means we weren't discreet enough."

"Well, when the Murakami Clan makes a move the whole Nation feels it."

"Hahaha, your majesty is as candid as always." Akio smiled warmly. His grey eyes as always blank, yet alert. Zuko could never read him, no matter how hard he tried. It frustrated him to no end, but then a lesser man could not have risen to be the head of the most powerful crime syndicate in the Fire Nation–perhaps even the world.

Zuko detested criminals and their foul corruption. But upon becoming Fire Lord he had realized just how important they were. How deeply rooted they were in society. And how much power they held. It was enough to make him worry. Eventually he would cleanse the Fire Nation of all such groups, but for now he would have to work with them. They had their uses.

"How's your wife?"

"Which one?" asked Akio in a way that made Zuko laugh. He laughed with him.

Lord Akio is a different sort of criminal, thought Zuko, still a scumbag underneath, but a vast improvement over the rest. Certainly an improvement over the previous head of the Murakami Clan who had foolishly thought to trifle with the then young Fire Lord. Within the week he was dead, courtesy of an assassin's blade, and the Murakami Clan thrown into disarray. And then **he** had come to power. Akio was a nobleman on his father's side, whilst his mother was the third daughter of a boss in the Murakami Clan. Through the influence of his relations, and his own skills at manipulation, he had quickly risen to be boss of the entire organization.

The first time they met, Akio had brought a vast tribute. Twenty chests filled with gold and jewels, each accompanied by a beautiful woman. Zuko had graciously accepted the chests, but had refused the women–not trusting the Murakami then or now. It was at that meeting that Akio had first described his many great ambitions, and laid out the plans for their future joint effort. The Murakami Clan had been just another criminal organization then, but within a few years, under Zuko's wary supervision, they had risen to be number one in the nation. Now, a few small pockets of resistance were the last obstacles that remained before they controlled all crime in the Fire Nation–after that they would begin their bid for the rest.

"And how's the Fire Lady?" asked Akio.

"She's not feeling well and has been confined to her chambers."

"Oh I hope it's nothing serious. Or…perhaps a Prince is on the way?"

"Spirits forbid…" muttered Zuko.

"Come now," said Akio kindly, "Children are a blessing from the spirits. A strong line like yours must continue through the ages."

"I don't think I want to be a father this early on."

"Your twenties are the best time."

"Heh, maybe for you."

Akio shrugged, "To each his own."

"Back to business." said Zuko, annoyed that he had been so easily distracted. "Did you take care of the Anti-Bending groups?"

"For the most part yes. One of their leaders managed to escape, but we'll find him soon enough."

"You better. Make sure there is absolutely no evidence linking this back to the Fire Nation. The war is gone but not forgotten."

"Come now, your majesty, you insult me. I would never be so careless."

"I trust your efforts in Republic City are also successful?"

"Of course. When the City is finally finished, our people there will quietly take over. No rival gangs will dare interfere with us there."

"Good. There's another problem that needs your attention."

"Oh?"

"The Maelstrom Pirates are starting to get on my nerves. The occasional raid could be overlooked, but they have become brazen. Take care of them for me."

Akio's lip curled, "My pleasure."

Akio had known of their activities for some time. Since they were based in the Earth Kingdom, dealing with them officially could be misinterpreted as an act of hostility against the Earth Kingdom itself. Zuko was clever to use the Murakami Clan to remove the threat. And the benefits weren't entirely one-sided either. With them out of the way, the Murakami would have the entire Western hemisphere in a vice. Akio's eyes glinted at the thought of the profit he would make. Soon his dreams would be realized.

Akio saw Fire Lord Zuko watching him carefully. He saw him scowl at not being able to read him, and Akio laughed in his mind. Unwise to keep one's thoughts so open, Fire Lord or not. Yet Akio liked the new Fire Lord. He was everything a leader should be. Proud, stern, clever, intimidating, and most importantly–strong, and determined to uphold his position no matter what. They both had the same goal in mind–the glory of the Fire Nation–it was merely their ideology that was different.

But no matter, in time he will bend, thought Akio. And if not…well Fire Lords come and go.

* * *

Zuko lay on his stomach in the opulent massage parlor. He had just gotten out of the baths. The pride of the Fire Nation were their hot spring baths. And the finest of these was located within the palace. The hot spring, heated by molten underground currents, was ornately decorated with finely polished stones, intricate statues of dragons and ancient spirits, marble benches, and serviced by the most exquisite servant girls handpicked by the Fire Lord himself.

Zuko had enjoyed their company while the balmy waters relaxed his body and quieted his mind. When he had had his fill he had gone to the massage parlor to continue the daily ritual. His masseuse was a tall and shapely woman in her thirties. Her hands were magic as they passed over his body, gradually relaxing the tensed muscles and working their powers along his back.

Zuko had decided to spend the night with Lien Yun. He wanted to see if the rumors were true–and if so he would make her a woman tonight.

The masseuse moved her hands up to his neck, and Zuko felt his mind momentarily go blank. As her hands moved gently lower, he resumed his train of thought.

She would not be his first unplucked flower. Come to think of it, he couldn't even place her numerically. Of course, Katara was first.

My first everything, he thought. His mind drifting to their first night together. He forced her out of his thoughts and tried to focus on Lien Yun. That goddess with the raven hair. He wondered how she would feel pressed against him. How her perfectly shaped breasts would be to the touch. How her flawless skin would glisten after their first joining.

The masseuse smirked to herself. She had felt his breathing change and had sensed the tension. She wondered who was on his mind this time. Certainly not his wife–that filthy water tribe peasant. Perhaps it was his mistress, Mai. Or his other mistress, what was her name? Ah to be young, and to have such virility. She wondered what he was like–if all the rumors were true. Oh, if only she was younger…but alas time moves swiftly.

It seemed only yesterday that she was fourteen and working as an apprentice to the head masseuse in the palace. That was the day she had first met the then Fire Lord Ozai, and he had asked her mistress to leave them. He had taken her then, on a table just like this–he had been her first. She still remembered the pain-pleasure and the feel of his strong body pressed down on hers, nearly suffocating her at the moment of climax. Afterwards he had left without a word and she had whipped away her tears and gone back to work. Like all the others.

But now it's all in the past, she thought. Now there is a new Fire Lord. Gradually she loosened the knots in his back, unwinding him until his muscles were calm and obedient.

To have so much power is truly marvelous, she thought. Out there he is a ruler, but in here he is no more than sore muscles and tightened flesh. Here she was in control. That was the best thing about her job–Power.

"Your majesty!" a servant rushed in and bowed low.

"What is it?" asked Zuko testily, furious at having his massage disturbed.

"It's the Avatar, sir." Zuko's eyes widened. "He's requested an audience with you."

* * *

**Tell me what you think. Comments and thoughts are greatly appreciated. Criticism is also welcomed. Review!**


	3. Confrontation

Avatar Aang stood leisurely in the largest of the three waiting chambers in the palace. The walls were adorned with rich red tapestries and ancient paintings depicting various historical events. Suspended from the ceiling was a massive crystal chandelier that captured the light from a multitude of nearby lanterns and transformed it into a dazzling array of colors. The room itself was furnished with lavish couches and cushions all made from the finest silk and satin. Atop the glistening marble floor, in the center of the room, was a thick carpet with an intricately interwoven design. In short–the finest the Fire Nation had to offer.

But Aang payed no attention to his extravagant surroundings. His mind remained fixed on one thought: Katara.

It had been over four years since he had last seen her, and every moment since then had felt like an eternity. When they had first parted ways he had hated her, vowing to never see her again. For a time he had been a recluse, trudging from town to town with no goal in sight. The War was over and there was no need for the Avatar. Or so he had thought. He still wasn't sure if he was doing the right thing. The pain from that day was still very much alive–although buried deep within.

Aang heard footsteps in the adjacent corridor and started. There was still enough time to leave. Leave and never come back. This was a mistake all of it, he should never have come. He began to run for the opposite corridor before stopping suddenly.

He had requested an audience with the Fire Lord. If he ran away now he would lose what little honor he had. Aang grimaced, that was one satisfaction Zuko would never have. Gathering himself he turned to face the source of the footsteps.

Two men and a woman, escorted by a guard from the Royal Procession, made their way into the chamber. The man in the lead was the tallest of the four. He wore rich robes and fine silver headgear. His keen grey eyes latched onto Aang, but he continued to speak to the man behind him as if nothing had changed.

"So you see Ambassador Cheo, my company would be more than happy to aid the Earth Kingdom in its time of need."

"Yes but still," the burly man began, stroking his bushy beard. "The price seems a bit steep."

"Ah, but therein lies the benefit. My deliveries are always guaranteed. Always." The tall man turned and smiled. "I doubt the competition can offer you that."

"Uh, I suppose you're right."

"Then we have a deal?"

"Yes." They shook hands.

"My assistant, Ume, will fill out the necessary paperwork. First payment is expected promptly before the departure date, as well as collateral. Thank you for your business, Excellency."

"Thank you, Lord Akio." The two men bowed and the young woman led the Ambassador down a side corridor.

"I can find my way out from here." said the man to the guard, who bowed and went back the way he came. The man strode calmly into the waiting chamber. He paused to admire one of the paintings before turning his attention to Aang. "Fine art." He began, his voice pleasantly regal, "The Fire Lord knows how to entertain his guests."

Aang smirked, he had known Zuko back when he was a banished prince, a refugee, a traitor, always a menace. And then, a long time ago it seemed, Zuko had become his friend and trusted mentor, only to stab him in the back. I guess I should have seen it coming, thought Aang, but I never expected it from Katara.

Noticing the hint of anger in his eyes at the mention of the Fire Lord, Akio pondered the reason. Why should the Avatar resent one of his oldest friends–his teacher if stories were true. Why should he–the answer struck him like lightning. Although outwardly nothing had changed his mind was racing. The Fire Lady! That had to be the reason. She was the Avatar's teacher too, but their relationship was more than that.

Wasn't it, he thought, looking at the Avatar. So that's why he disappeared for all of those years. That's why he wasn't at their wedding. Akio compartmentalized the information for later.

"Avatar Aang, I presume?" Akio bowed. "Such an honor to meet you in person. Tell me, what brings you to the capital this fine day?"

Aang returned the bow respectfully. "I'm here to see some old friends." He replied, his voice had grown stronger over the years.

"Ah yes. Friends are the most important thing in the world. Next to family." Akio smiled kindly, "But then again, some can be as close as family. If not more."

"True." Aang lowered his gaze, thoughts of Katara filling him once more.

Akio smirked in his mind. It seemed he was right–not that that came as a surprise. The Avatar was an open book to him. Every feeling, every thought as plain as day. He would be only too easy to manipulate…

"And you are?" Aang's voice brought him out of his musings.

"Oh, forgive me." He laughed. "I'm Lord Akio, owner of Swift Wing co., as well as several other corporations here and abroad." He struck out his hand.

"Nice to meet you." Aang shook it indifferently. The waiting was growing unbearable and so were the thoughts that flooded his mind. How was she? Had she changed? Did she even remember him?

"Strange that the Fire Lord has kept you waiting so long." said Akio, breaking his chain of thought.

"He's a busy man." said Aang with a hint of contempt.

"Yes, I hear the Fire Lady has taken ill." mentioned Akio nonchalantly.

"Katara's sick?" he gasped.

"So I've heard. Though I don't know the details."

Aang's anxiety grew tenfold. He glared at the corridor, confident that now there was no turning back. He had to see her.

"Don't worry." said Akio, reading his mind. "I'm sure everything is fine." Aang relaxed somewhat, but the gnawing thought remained.

"My lord." The woman from before walked into the waiting chamber. "I thought I might find you here."

"You move fast, Ume."

"Thank you, my lord." She bowed her head. "I hope you haven't forgotten your business arrangement later today."

"Oh yes, of course." There were many things to attend to. The Maelstrom Pirates, for one. He would have to notify his forces stationed off Whale Tail Island to ready their ships. Then there was the matter of the Dragon Claw Group, yet another criminal organization in his way. Not to mention the ever present trouble from his wives, the youngest of which had recently given him his third son. "I'm afraid I must leave you, Avatar Aang. I'm sure the Fire Lord won't keep you waiting much longer. If you need anything, anything at all, feel free to visit me at my palace or Swift Wing co. Headquarters. I hope we can be good friends." He held out his hand, and this time Aang shook it warmly.

Alone once more, Aang sat on one of the couches and meditated. Gradually his thoughts cleared and the cacophony of worries dimmed to a soft mummer. He was here to move on with his life. To forget the past. If Katara truly loved Zuko, and he her, then there was no point in hating either of them. Perhaps it was fate and Aang was simply the one who got in the way. It was time to forget that kiss, and all the events that led up to it.

'So long as she's happy, I have no right to interfere.' He thought, and submerged himself deeper in his meditation. Aang felt himself ascending into the sky, his mind miles away. He felt his worries washed away by the eternal streams of the spirit world. Finally he felt his thoughts enter a sanctuary. A place where everything was serene, peaceful. The world was silent at last.

A thought broke through the silence and made him open his eyes. _What if she wasn't happy?_

"Avatar Aang." A Royal Procession Guard stood at the edge of the corridor. "You've been invited into the Throne Room."

* * *

The Throne Room was unusually quiet. Even the loud hissing of the flames seemed like a deafening silence to Zuko. The news of Aang's sudden return had shaken him greatly. In fact it had all but ruined his otherwise pleasant day.

Why had Aang decided to return? As far as Zuko knew he wanted nothing to do with either him or Katara.

Perhaps he thinks she'll leave me, he mused, if so he's more than welcome to her…But Zuko knew he couldn't simply discard his wife as he could a consort or a mistress. Yes, regrettably Fire Ladies had rights too. A slight oversight of the previous Fire Lords, he thought with a scowl.

Giving up on trying to decipher the Avatar's reasoning, the Fire Lord motioned to one of his guards to bring in Aang. He hoped the meeting would be brief. After all, what was there to say? 'I stole the woman you loved, how are things with you?'

Zuko sighed. He was still looking forward to his night with Lien Yun. As soon as the meeting was over he would go to her room, tear her clothes off, and have his fill of her. Virgins were always so meek and innocent. So hesitant to do anything for fear of displeasing him. Their worry was like an aphrodisiac that drove him wild. The ecstasy of that first thrust and the anxiety of the last, what was Katara compared to that?

"Avatar Aang." announced the herald, Zuko instantly looked up. The Avatar had grown taller and now had broader shoulders, his previously lean frame was now taut with muscles. Aang's face had matured as well, his adolescent eyes were now more reserved and adult, his expression more serious. His outfit had changed too. In lieu of his usual monk robes, he wore a light Earth Kingdom breastplate over a long sleeve travel shirt, indigo pants and matching boots, as well as a deep blue travel cloak that seemed Water Tribe in origin, at his side hung the traditional Air Nomad beads. Only his shaved head remained unchanged.

As he walked past the guards and into the Throne Room Aang did not bow. The Chamberlain appeared annoyed at the breach in protocol, but Zuko overrid him with a glance.

"Aang," Zuko forced a smile, "It's been so long. How have you been all these years?"

"Fine." Aang did little to conceal his disdain for the Fire Lord. The guards in the throne room tensed.

"Leave us." ordered Zuko. Everyone bowed and walked out, leaving the two of them alone.

"Aang," he began again.

"Save it, Zuko." Aang stood before the throne, the towering flames not fazing him at all. "Where's Katara?"

"She hasn't been feeling well, so she's resting in her chambers. Look, I know this is difficult to–"

"Difficult?" Aang seethed. "I thought we were friends Zuko! You were my teacher, I trusted you!"

"Aang, it's not that–"

"And then you go and stab me in the back?" Aang glared at him, the rage filling the room. Zuko felt himself returning the hatred. Who was Aang to question him–the Fire Lord? Where would the world be if he hadn't helped train him. Hadn't helped defeat Azula and undo a century of his ancestors' tyranny.

Zuko forced the anger down and with all the strength he could muster started to reply calmly, "Katara and I–"

"I don't care what you have to say, Zuko. No explanation could ever justify what you did." He sneered at the mutual hatred in the room. "I'm only here to see Katara. The only reason I requested an audience with you was because the Earth King asked it as a favor. He wanted me to pass a message on to you." Aang tossed a sealed scroll on the floor. "Otherwise I would never talk to a slimy bastard like you."

The flames around Zuko's throne blazed into the ceiling, threatening to burn the palace to ashes. Despite his resolve Zuko felt his rage take control, and the words burst forth like an inferno.

"You just can't accept the fact that Katara chose me. You were the Avatar, the savior of the world, but you still couldn't have her. She wanted a real man, not a kid. Face it Aang, you're nothing. All your skills and techniques were mastered in your previous lives. They're the ones that mattered. You? You're just a good for nothing snot nosed little brat!"

Aang felt the Avatar State starting, but he suppressed it, his knuckles turning white from the effort. Killing Zuko would achieve nothing. As much as the bastard deserved it. For Katara's state he fought back the rage.

"Go fuck yourself, Zuko." Aang muttered. Then in a calmer voice, "Tell Katara I want to see her. I'll be staying in the city. I'll send a messenger hawk as soon as I find a hotel."

"You're welcome to stay in the palace." said Zuko. Regretting the outburst the second his mind had cleared.

"No thanks." said Aang with disgust. Turning around he walked towards the exit. Pausing at the doors he added. "Oh and Zuko, in the future I'd refrain from insulting my bending. I may just lose control long enough to prove you wrong. I wouldn't want Katara to be a widow so soon." And with that the Avatar vanished once more.

* * *

In her chambers Katara lay nearly motionless on her bed, her legs cradled in her arms, her head on her knees. It felt like a nightmare. It was horrifying, overwhelming, and worst of all it wasn't a dream. Her servant had confirmed it earlier that day.

'Your majesty!' she had said with a beam.

'What is it, Su Qi?' Katara had asked. She had felt sick for nearly a week. Every day the same symptoms: weakness, nausea, and a slight fever.

'You're pregnant!'

'What?' shock spread on her face.

'Yes, the doctor just told me. He says you're not sick at all, but with child. Oh, the Fire Lord will be so pleased. Congratulations!'

The news had shattered her. She had weakly sent the cheerful servant away, feigning tiredness. But she hadn't slept at all that night. She had wanted to cry at first, but the tears wouldn't come. She wanted to scream, but her voice was gone. As the chill autumn breeze fought its way into her room she shuddered, though she barely felt the cold.


	4. Forgotten Feelings

It was nearly nightfall. Above the palace, the clouds were bathed in red. The sky outside was growing darker as the final glimmer of sunlight vanished over the horizon. The old was fading into memory, making way for the new. Tomorrow the world would be reborn.

Zuko sighed, how he hated today. It wasn't just Aang. He was merely the latest in a long string of problems that seemed to plague the young Fire Lord. But such was the nature of his position. Being Fire Lord came with many pros and cons. The respect, the power, the authority countered by responsibility, criticism, and constant scrutiny. To overcome, one had to fine balance. Both in himself and in his realm. That was the key to being a ruler.

Zuko watched the sun disappear into the distant ocean from one of the balconies of his palace. It unnerved him that even something as massive and powerful as the sun was trapped. Forced to bend to the will of some other unknown power–made to spin in a never ending cycle. Was anything ever truly free?

Turning his back on the darkened sky he felt a new question arise–what did Katara want?

One of her servants had notified him earlier that the Fire Lady wished to see him. When he asked the reason the girl merely shrugged her shoulders in response. Strange.

She's never done this before, he thought, his mind filling with questions. Was it an attempt at reconciliation? No, that can't be it. He knew Katara. Or at least, had known her long enough to know the workings of her mind.

She's far too stubborn to make the first move, this has to be trouble, he decided. But what kind of trouble? It couldn't be–

He felt a stab in his chest as his heart skipped a beat. The mere thought of _that_ made him sick. Why else would she want to see him? It had to be–Zuko forced the thought away. Willed his mind to be silent. There was no point in being paranoid. It was probably something else entirely. No point in ruining tonight.

Yes it's nothing, he thought determinedly, a familiar feeling coursing through him–his worry temporarily forgotten. A light breeze blew apart the silk curtains of the entrance to his bedchamber and he saw the beautiful woman sitting quietly on the bed. Her eyes were lowered, her legs crossed, her dress silky white and revealing. Zuko smiled, she was everything he imagined–and more.

"Lien Yun." he said, his voice commanding yet relaxed.

"Yes, your majesty?" she stood up and he felt his heart beat faster. The wind ruffled her thin dress and Zuko felt his desire grow more urgent.

"How do you find the palace?" he asked, walking back inside.

"It's lovely, your majesty. So extravagant." Zuko smiled. He felt her tense as he came closer, her soft breathing grow more erratic.

"And my bedchamber, does it please you?" Her golden eyes avoided his gaze, seemingly shying away. The action served only to enhance her purity and innocence, and made Zuko want her even more.

"Greatly, your majesty." she whispered. Zuko went around her and let his hand casually drift to the seams of her dress, tugging gently on the lacing. She gasped. Her dress was looser now. From his view he could see the corner of her breast pressed against the silk. Now the most intriguing question remained…

Zuko tugged harder on the lacing and pulled the dress over her shoulders. The light fabric tumbled to the ground, leaving the young maiden clothed only in moonlight.

"Turn around." He ordered. She obeyed.

Zuko allowed his eyes to wander over every inch of her. Her skin was creamy and flawless. Her breasts ideal. Her legs long and shapely. Everything about her filled him with desire. Zuko lowered his gaze gradually. He felt her shudder as his eyes reached her nether regions.

Zuko closed the distance between them and cupped her face, his grip firm. He pulled her close until their lips were mere millimeters apart. Zuko felt her tremble, her shuddering breath decadently warm as it fell on his body. Unable to hold back any longer, he snatched her lips with his own–his kiss forceful. He felt her begin to pull away, but he grabbed her by the waist and held her firmly. She continued to writhe in his grasp, the struggle exciting him even more.

Gradually she began to return the kiss. Her response weak and gentle and oh so virgin. Zuko began to undo his robes with one hand, while his other traced her leg, turning around into the inner thigh. He felt her shudder as his fingers came to rest on the warm skin. He continued to move his hand higher, sliding it towards her nether regions. His hand felt the heat within her loins and he wanted to ravish her there on the floor–nonetheless he willed himself to be patient. She wasn't like the rest. He wanted their first joining to be special.

By now Zuko had untied his robes and he quickly cast them off. He took off his pants just as quickly, and now stood as naked as her. Once more he kissed her, this time he felt his erection brush against her thigh. Instinctively she pulled him closer until their bodies were pressed against one another. Her trembling lips joined his once more. Zuko began to lift her in his arms before coming to his senses and quickly breaking the kiss. He didn't want to lose control. Not yet.

"Are you frightened?" he asked, his eyes burning with desire.

"No, my lord."

"You shouldn't lie to me." He stared into her eyes. They were ripe with fear. The golden irises filled with anxiety.

"No, my lord." She replied in the same meek tone. Zuko caressed her face, gently. She was so beautiful, so ideal. Not like Katara. Lien was a more refined beauty–a Fire Nation beauty.

"Don't be." Zuko lowered his head and kissed her neck. His lips trailed down her shoulders and collar bone while his hands fondled her chest. To his delight, her breasts were firm to the touch. Slowly Zuko steered her towards the bed, lifting her up in his arms as they reached the frame, he placed her forcefully on the mattress and towered over her.

Lien panted, her breathing mixing with his, echoing through the silent bedchamber. Zuko lowered himself, his chest pressing against hers, their bodies gradually merging together–her body soft and gentle against his muscular physique. He spread her legs apart and stopped just outside her entrance. This was the moment he relished most. The anticipation, the worry, the desire, all of it mixing together like a perfect cocktail. For a moment the world seemed to stop. He thrust.

Lien cried out, but he silenced her with a kiss. Her walls enveloped him as he broke through her barrier and pressed onward. She was incredibly tight and he slowly forced himself in deeper inch by inch. Zuko felt her cry into the kiss, but he continued to thrust deeper still until he reached her limit. Pulling out he thrust once more, working it up to a slow and steady pace. Her virgin walls now yielding to his power. Welcoming him in.

Seeing her clench her teeth in pain, Zuko stooped lower and took one of her nipples into his mouth, his hand massaged the other. In response, Lien wrapped her legs around him, the heat between their bodies growing hotter still. Slowly, Zuko guided her through the motions and soon she was moving in rhythm with his thrusts. She no longer noticed the pain, pleasure gradually taking its place.

As he raised his head, suddenly, and to his surprise, Lien kissed him. He returned it passionately, his tongue slipping inside her mouth. Her tongue greeted him, massaging his own as the kiss grew deeper. The heat in her loins, her tightness, the passion of the kiss, everything driving him to the edge. At last Zuko felt himself reaching his limit. He broke the kiss and cried out as he came. The liquid fire bursting inside her, carrying her with him to the brink and into the clouds. He collapsed atop of her, momentarily senseless–their panting now filled the room. When Zuko at last regained his senses he rolled over next to her and smiled. Lien smiled back. The night was still young…

When at last the Fire Lord was asleep Lien allowed herself to think. She hoped that she had pleased him. He had been far gentler than she had been led to believe, and that was a good sign.

Maybe he likes me more than the others, she mused. And why not? She was better bred, better trained, and far more beautiful and elegant then all his other whores. Especially his whore of a wife.

Lien smirked. Her innocent act had worked wonders. It was all as her master had foreseen. Soon perhaps she would have him ensnared. If not…well that's in fate's hands.

Men are rather simpleminded, her lips curled. Not _all_ men, she corrected herself. No, her master was an exception to that rule.

Yes, she thought as her mind drifted off to sleep, Lord Akio is definitely an exception.

* * *

"Katara."

The word hit Katara like a lightning bolt. Not the sound of her name, so much as the voice that said it.

"Katara." the voice grew louder.

Standing up from her bed, Katara walked towards the sound. Her vision was blurry. After hours of tossing and turning she had fought her way into a state between dreaming and waking. She didn't know if she was truly awake now. In the darkness everything seemed surreal and out of proportion. Her sole guide was the voice that echoed through the dark room.

"Who's there?" she replied, her voice trembling.

"Katara."

"Who are you?" she screamed. Her voice came out a hoarse whisper.

"Katara." A tall figure cloaked in darkness stepped into the moonlight.

"Who are you?" she repeated.

"Don't you recognize me?" The figure turned so the moonlight fell on his face.

Katara's eyes grew wide with shock. "A-ang? Aang."

"Surprised?" He smirked.

"Aang!" she ran at him and embraced him tightly, nearly knocking him over. The tears now cascaded down her face. She was ecstatic, her hell forgotten in that moment of joy.

"Katara, I know it's been a long time." He began. Katara released him and began to wipe away her tears. "But, the only reason I came here." He sighed. "The main reason I came here was to bury the past. I want to move on with my life. And I want there to be no hard feelings between us."

Katara felt herself nod. Her mind still unable to grasp the fact that he was here. That after everything, he had come back.

"Katara, I want you to tell me straight. Are you happy here?" he watched her carefully. "With Zuko."

"W-what do you mean?" she looked away.

"I mean are you satisfied with the choice you made." He scratched his neck, "I…I guess after all these years I want him to be the bad guy, not you. Because–"

Because I love you, Aang thought bitterly. But I can't say that, not now. Not ever.

"–Because you're my friend, Katara." He finished. "And I want you to be happy. I mean that. I really do."

"Aang…" Katara felt her skin grow cold. The joy evaporating instantly. How could she tell him? Tell him that everything was wrong in her life. How Zuko was treating her. That she was pregnant with his child. That she had thought of getting rid of it. Of killing herself. Of killing him. That now her life was torture. Every hour filled with agony. She wanted to scream until her lungs burst. Nonetheless, she willed herself silent. She couldn't do this to him. Not after all these years. If only he had come sooner…

"Katara." His face grew stern. "If he's done anything–"

"No, Aang." She looked him in the eyes. "I'm happy here. Really. I-I told you before. All those years ago. I love Zuko, and he loves me. I'm truly sorry Aang. I never meant to hurt you. Please, please tell me we can still be friends. If you leave I don't think–"

"It's alright Katara." He hugged her comfortingly. "I'm not leaving. I'll never abandon you like that again." She felt the last of her defenses crumble in his embrace and she cried.

When the last of her tears dried up, she felt herself drift into oblivion. Aang lifted her up gently in his arms, and laid her carefully on her bed. Then, just as quietly, he vanished into the night like a long forgotten dream.


	5. Precarious

It was early in the morning yet the Capital was already bustling. Street merchants hollered at the passerbys, praising their products whilst condemning those of their neighbors. Customers haggled and cursed, trying and sometimes succeeding in getting a fair bargain. Yet most of the time the merchants would win–for those who had made it to the capital were the cleverest, if not the richest.

Aang rubbed his eyes wearily; he hadn't slept at all since he had arrived. Because of his meeting and his late night visit he hadn't had a chance to find lodgings yet. And, as if to make matters worse, all hotels were now booked because of a major upcoming festival.

Perhaps coming here _was_ a mistake, he thought sarcastically, it seems the spirits will do anything to make sure I don't stay. Turning his head slightly he saw a familiar man walking leisurely a few people behind him. His weariness dissolved instantly and Aang was alert.

Had Zuko sent an assassin? No, he thought, even Zuko isn't that stupid. But it couldn't be mere chance, he had seen the man several times already, and no matter where he went the man was always right behind him. Aang waited until a large cart crossed the road before him then, without warning, he air-sprinted through the traffic and down a side street and out of sight.

That takes care of that, he thought, I don't feel like fighting this early in the morning. As he walked down the smaller street that was far less crowded he found himself harangued by every stall owner and paper boy.

"Sir, we have the finest arctic hen! Fresh from the south pole!"

"No thanks, I'm a vegetarian." said Aang politely.

"That's right, Fu!" said another merchant. "Who needs your scrawny hens anyway? What you need, sir, are some of my prime hectaberries. So ripe they practically melt in your mouth!"

"I say balls to your rotten berries, Shono." said a portly merchant. "What that young man needs is a bottle of Su Lang wine! The finest wine in all the nations!"

"More like the cheapest wine in all of the nations." muttered Fu with a wave. "Hectaberries are the ideal breakfast food!"

"You're crazy all of you." said a paper boy. "I mean, who drinks wine in the morning?"

"I do!" the portly merchant drained an entire bottle in a single swig.

Aang decided to hurry out of the street before they pressed any more goods on him. Seeing him escaping, the paper boy ran up to him and tried to force one of his papers into his hand.

"Come on, mister. The Iroh Chronicle is the finest paper in the Capital. Look at all these rich stories!" the boy unfolded the paper while running alongside Aang. "Major earthquake in the Eastern Islands causes an island to sink into the ocean, fortunately the island was uninhabited."

"Sorry, kid, I'm not interested."

The boy frowned but continued reading headlines undeterred, "Series of small volcanic eruptions rock Fire Fountain City. Locals fear a major eruption is on the way, Fire Sages claim the spirit of the volcano requires more tribute."

"More like, less fire flakes and more virgins." muttered Aang, having already visited the volcano and had a "nice chat" with the resident spirit.

"Let's see here." The boy scoured the paper. "Ah-ha! This will really get your attention. Blue Spirit sightings reported in several cities of the Fire Nation. While Fire Nation guards have dismissed the rumors, Earth Kingdom authorities are offering a substantial reward for the capture of this mysterious figure."

"Blue Spirit, huh?" Aang tossed a copper piece to the boy and took the newspaper. It was probably just another rumor or urban myth. Zuko was Fire Lord now and the Blue Spirit was a long forgotten relic of the war. Still, if the Earth Kingdom was offering a reward perhaps there really was some truth to it.

"Avatar Aang." The man from before stood at the edge of the street, his head politely lowered, his lips curled into a smile.

Aang dropped the newspaper, "How did you find me?"

"Please, do not be troubled. I was sent by Lord Akio to escort you to your hotel room."

"My…my hotel room?" Aang looked at him, puzzled.

"Yes, now please follow me." The man motioned forward and Aang followed him warily. He remembered Akio from the palace, he had seemed nice enough, but Aang didn't know anything about him. While it might have been a trap, the thought of a room with a bed and a good rest waiting for him overwhelmed his cautiousness. After all, why should he be worried?

"We are nearly there, Avatar Aang. I trust you are enjoying your time in the Capital." said the man.

"For the most part." said Aang, the reality of his situation very different.

Unseen by him the man smiled, he could sense the anxiety and the weariness. The Avatar had not slept at all that night. What had he been up to? Not sneaking off to the palace in the dead of night? Surely not visiting the Fire Lady in her chambers!

Oh! How rich, thought the man, Lord Akio had had the Avatar followed since he had left the palace. How decadently cruel it would be to reveal all that transpired to the Fire Lord. And then reveal his own vices and mistreatment of Katara to Aang. It would be only too perfect to have them kill one another. The man barely contained his mirth. For now, it was his Lord's will that everything be kept secret. Until the time was right. Or….perhaps there was some greater plan in the works?

Catching himself in time, the man cursed his curiosity. In this line of work curious people did not live long. Whatever Lord Akio's true plans were, he could never know. And perhaps it was better this way. But oh, how thick the web had grown around them!

Seeing the towering complex reaching for the very sky, the man paused in admiration. Though Republic City was filled with them, this was the first high-rise in the Capital and it belonged to Lord Akio.

"There, Avatar Aang. That is where you will be staying." said the man proudly.

"Wow." muttered Aang in awe, he hadn't seen a completed high rise before, in Republic City they were all still under construction. The magnificence of it was overwhelming.

"This way." The man motioned onward and led the way once more. "It is the largest and tallest building in the Fire Nation, the Royal Dragon Hotel. Fifty-four stories, six hundred rooms, one hundred suites, and of course the Royal Suite at the top floor where you'll be staying."

"What?" Aang's eyebrows soared.

"Yes, Avatar Aang, you have the best rooms in the building. Lord Akio said nothing is too fine for a hero like you. Think of it as a small token of friendship."

"Small, huh?" Aang scratched his neck as the man led him into the massive lobby. The marble floors of the building were polished till they shined like crystal, the ceiling was decorated with modern chandeliers, and the walls were adorned with tasteful art and contemporary decorations. While not nearly as opulent as the Fire Lord's palace, the Royal Dragon was no less stunning.

Leading him up to the front desk the man bowed and said, "I'll leave you in the capable hands of the concierge. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask any of the staff here. Lord Akio also asked me to invite you to his palace to celebrate the coming festival in two days. I hope you enjoy your stay."

"Thank you." Aang returned the bow and the man walked outside and into the street, all the while wondering how events would unfold.

"Avatar Aang." The concierge was a handsome man in his thirties, clean shaven and smiling. "Your rooms are ready, here is your key." The man gave him a bright new key attached to a decorated tab inscribed with characters that read: Royal Dragon; Royal Suite.

"Follow me, please." said a young lady who had appeared behind him. Even through his tired eyes Aang immediately took note that she was beautiful. She wore a tight-fitting modern cheongsam, bright red with an elaborate pattern, gold latches at the top, and slit high at the thighs. Her face was lightly powdered and she wore red eyeliner and matching red lipstick with a ruby pin in her long dark hair–all of this only further enhancing her beauty.

"Lead the way." said Aang almost breathlessly. As he followed close behind her he thought about Katara. It was high time he let her go. She said that she was happy in that palace with Zuko, what right did he have to interfere?

After all, maybe it simply wasn't meant to be. In time he would forget her–or so he hoped. There were so many women out there–but only one Katara.

"This way, please." said the lady, leading him into a small chamber with cushioned benches along its walls.

"What is this?" asked Aang in wonder.

"This is a new invention by the great engineer Sokka, it is a platform capable of traveling to great heights and descending back down smoothly with the use of special cables and breaks."

"The elevator." said Aang with a smirk, he remembered seeing Sokka fiddle with a small scale model. He had wanted to create a platform that could travel without bending so that it could be used universally. His original name for it had been: "the wooshy up and down flying room" though after much laughter and friendly ridicule he had changed it.

The woman laughed softly, "Yes, that's it."

Smiling at the sound of her laughter Aang asked, "What's your name?"

"It's Harumi." She smiled with her pearly teeth. Inserting her key into a slot and pressing the jade button atop all the others on the wall, the hidden doors to the elevator closed and the platform rose smoothly upward.

"When was this place built?" asked Aang, enjoying the sound of her voice.

"Construction began three years ago and was finished only last month."

"That fast? I've seen similar buildings in Republic City and they're still nowhere near completion."

"Yes, Lord Akio employed modern architects and used the newest construction methods. No expense was spared." the woman turned to him, eyes glistening in the close lighting of the elevator. "It's a new record." At last the elevator stopped and the doors rolled open.

"Here we are, the Royal Suite." The woman smiled and motioned toward a set of red and gold double doors that stood at the end of a stately chandelier lit corridor. "I trust you will find your stay with us enjoyable."

Aang walked out and admired the view, wondering how much the Royal Suite would cost per night. Suddenly remembering the woman, he turned to thank her but saw that the elevator had already left.

"Damn." he cursed and walked down the corridor. It felt strange to have his mind on someone besides Katara. For years she had been the only one he wanted. Even after she had broken his heart she had never left his thoughts.

Those four years had nearly torn him apart. Every time he slept he dreamt they were together, happy. When he awoke, it was to face the nightmarish reality. Every day, every moment then had been hell. No matter how hard he tried to move on she was constantly in the way. His mind always came up with new excuses, new scenarios, new possibilities–never giving him rest. Now…now for the first time he felt his thoughts begin to clear. For the first time he felt like he could move on.

Aang opened the double doors, the relief from all those years of agony coupled with his weariness made him want to collapse on the nearest soft surface. Upon entering the Royal Suite, his eyes widened. It wasn't the opulence of the rooms, the amazing view from the massive windows, or even the rich décor that grabbed his attention, for on the massive couch in the reception room, lying back to back with their heads turned towards him, were two of the most beautiful women Aang had ever seen.

"Welcome, Avatar Aang." they said in unison. One had light brown hair down to her waist, soft golden eyes, perfect figure, and full pouty lips. The other had jet black hair, green eyes, equally perfect figure, and a smirk that intimated naughty thoughts.

"We're a gift from Lord Akio." said the one with brown hair.

"We're here to make your stay more…enjoyable." said the other.

* * *

"Mmm, delicious. Care to try some, my lord?" The richly adorned woman smiled and passed him a dish.

"Thank you." Lord Akio accepted it and feigned interest as she told him how difficult it had been to obtain the fish from which it was prepared, how delighted she was that it had turned out so fine, and how she hoped the other dish she had arranged would also be to his liking. She was his third wife, Kayo, the daughter of an obscenely rich noble, and his current favorite. He watched from the corner of his eye as she waited patiently for him to sample it. She was young, pretty but not beautiful, poised but not elegant, and capricious like a minx.

As he sampled the over-spiced fish, Akio wondered how and when he would break her. She had grown too arrogant of late, even for a favorite. And the only reason he had granted her that privilege was because, for the time being, he had need of her family's wealth.

"It's wonderful, darling. As always your culinary prowess overwhelms me." He felt the urge to scowl when he saw her self-satisfied haughty smile. Nonetheless he remained as impassive and as unreadable as ever. Draining his glass of wine he saw his other wives and his two concubines seated across from them burning with ill concealed hatred and jealousy. Most intense was the glare of his first wife–Yuzuki. The sight of him at the head of the table with another woman must have pushed her to her limits, nonetheless she sat calmly, Akio alone could see her true feelings. Until recently she had been his favorite, and in his heart she still was

It isn't love, thought Akio passively–enjoying the womens' battle that was never-ending–it was more along the lines of respect. She was the mother of his heir, a pillar of wisdom and support, and quite possibly the most equal match he had ever met. He had always married for reason not love, with each wife his power had grown. Even his concubines were carefully selected. Everything was perfect; just the way he liked it.

"My lord," Yuzuki gaze was penetrating, "Our son wishes to take part in your next meeting, he thinks he is ready to prove himself." Akio felt the rage well up in Kayo.

"No, I'm afraid the next meeting will be too serious for his presence. In due time, beloved." He saw the hatred leave her instantly. Beloved was a title he used only for her. Seeing that she was losing his attention, Kayo decided to intervene.

"Did you hear the good news, Yuzuki?" she smirked. "The physician says I am with child. Oh isn't it exciting. I hope it's a boy."

Yuzuki bit her lip to fight back the rage, her pale face turning red from the effort. She hated the smug little bitch, always fighting for attention like a little girl! No respect for her betters, and no manners either. Cheap worthless little hussy!

"Yes, congratulations." Yuzuki forced a halfhearted smile.

Of course my lord doesn't love her, she thought bitterly, he's merely using her for her wealth. My beloved keeps his heart for me alone. Am I not his first and chief wife? The mother of his heir and two lovely daughters. And what is she? Yuzuki fixed her gaze on Kayo as if to kill her with a glance. Just a little brat spoiled rotten.

Kayo shrugged off the death glare. It was far too tedious to humor that aging hag. She would always come second to herself. She was nineteen and Yuzuki was twenty-six and the daughter of some third rate lesser nobleman. Soon _her_ son would be heir and she would be chief wife and then she could do away with all of those vicious and conniving whores.

"More wine, my lord?" she asked sweetly.

"Sure." She poured deftly and smiled keenly as he drank. Soon, very soon.

As he drank the ginseng laced wine Akio wondered how the Avatar was enjoying his accommodations. What better way to endear, and thereby ensnare him, then by gratitude? And all motivations aside, he could use a distraction from the obvious hell of his situation.

How would he react if he knew the truth? Akio's lip curled, it would be only too easy. But now was not the time, there was still too much that had to be done. Especially considering what had happened.

He had heard the news only yesterday that his Lieutenant, and second-in-command of the Murakami Clan, Kuro, had been assassinated and a whole subdivision (over a hundred men) in Republic City had been annihilated. All of it perpetrated by his hated rival, Tempest Kota and his organization, the Tempest Syndicate. With his position in Republic City in jeopardy he had reluctantly agreed to a meeting in neutral waters, one ship and two guards each.

"Akio, how long has it been?" Kota had said arrogantly. He was in his thirties, shorter by a head but far more muscular, sporting a black beard and mustache, with the tan skin and blue eyes of a water tribesman.

"That's Lord Akio to you, Kota. I'm a nobleman, or haven't you heard?"

"And that's Tempest Kota to you, boy." Akio matched his furious stare, gauging him, wanting to kill him then and there. Their guards looked at one another nervously.

"Enough of that." Akio smiled curiously and waved his hand. "This is a civil meeting, or did you forget?"

"Heh, so it is." Kota stroked his beard then smiled menacingly. "Having trouble in Republic City are you?"

"Trouble?" Akio feigned being puzzled.

"Don't play dumb with me, _Lord_ Akio." Kota's eyes glinted mockingly, "You know full well that your Lieutenant is dead and so are most of your men there. You also know that Republic City is mine now. I wonder how Fire Lord Zuko will react to this failure." Kota motioned to one of his guards who brought him a pipe and lit it for him. Taking in a deep puff he blew out a ring of smoke and smiled contently. "Curious how the previous head of your Clan died."

"It was his time." While the identity of the killer was never confirmed Akio and every other member of the Clan knew who had hired him–Fire Lord Zuko.

"Yea, and soon it will be yours." Kota took another puff. "The Murakami is history."

"I think you'll find that to be far from true." Akio stood at his full height. "You and your miserable band of cutthroats have won a small victory, congratulations, but rest assured it will not last."

"Don't kid yourself, boy!" Kota threw his pipe to the ground and stood toe to toe with Akio. "With the death of your Lieutenant how long do you think your little clan can stave off your rivals? Even now they're tearing at you, and when they've bled you enough I'll be there to finish the job!"

Akio kept the hint of fear buried deep within him, what Kota said was true. The Dragon Claw group had launched a series of raids into his territory, the remaining members of the Red Turbans had resurfaced and begun to retake their old turf, even his prey: the Maelstrom Pirates were now in a position to threaten him. While Kota's Tempest Syndicate was smaller and poorer, because of the nature of their rackets it had far more mercenaries, more skilled fighters, and far more muscle. Thankfully they were based primarily in the Earth Kingdom and South Pole and his ships still provided a buffer preventing them from launching any attacks on his home turf. But at the rate things were going that too was only a matter of time.

It was also only a matter of time before the Fire Lord found out, and then…spirits help him.

"I thought we came here to negotiate, not throw around idle threats." Akio's face was the pinnacle of confidence. "So get on with your terms, I've a business to run."

"Hehe, very well." said Kota, not fooled. "Republic City is now mine that you can't change."

"We'll see, what else?"

Kota grimaced, "Your base on Whale Tale Island gone, and the island itself becomes mine, your gambling and smuggling rackets in the Western Earth Kingdom split their profits sixty-forty with me, all of your secret depots and bases in the Northern Islands must pay tribute to me or they're also gone, and I want two of my men made second-tier bosses in your organization."

Akio scoffed, the reaction genuine. "Or what?"

"Or I'll squeeze you out the hard way." Kota hawked and spat overboard.

"Well then, I believe this meeting is at an end." Akio turned and with a sneer muttered. "Good luck."

Ever since then the attacks in the Earth Kingdom had escalated. So far neither side had made any gains, but he was losing money fast.

"Everything alright, my lord?" Kayo looked at him quizzically.

"Yes, my dear." Akio smiled at her, his training taking over, his mind quieting instantly as he put away his problems for later. It was as his mother had told him many times.

'Everything comes with patience.'

* * *

Zuko walked the long dimly lit corridor, hating leaving the warmth of his chamber–the warmth of Lien Yun. He had tasted the heavens thrice that night, each time more powerful than the last. And most importantly he had taken her with him.

What was it about her that drove him mad with desire? She was beautiful, yes, but there was more to it than that.

Once more Zuko found himself comparing her to Katara. It was the same way with every other woman, he would always involuntarily weigh her against his bitter wife. Did he still have feelings for her?

Feelings of disgust maybe, thought Zuko coldly. And now she dares to summon me, the Fire Lord, to her chamber like some common servant? I swear if Aang wasn't here I'd…

Ever since the Avatar's sudden visit Zuko had begun to feel more and more uneasy. He knew that the Avatar's feelings toward him were far from friendly and it was all too evident how precarious his position as Fire Lord truly was. Under his father and his predecessors the Fire Nation was obedient and the Fire Lord was supreme ruler of the land. Now, the Avatar was once more at the top and, if he so desired it, he had the power to remove him from power.

But that won't happen, Zuko scowled, I'll make sure of it. As he reached the chambers of the Fire Lady he once more pondered the reason. If it was what he thought then he would have to act fast.


	6. Ashes and Flames

The steam rose from the water in a steady flow, the vapors slowly encompassed the massive chamber, mixed with the afternoon light, and made the baths seem almost surreal. A gentle splashing resounded from one of the massive pools of water and a soft feminine voice hummed a popular Fire Nation song. The door leading outside opened and a new bather entered, the outside air momentarily parted the mist and revealed several ladies lying semi-submerged in the bath waters. Some were in their mid-twenties, most were younger, a few had their eyes closed. All were naked. The new arrival removed her towel with a flourish and stepped into the balmy waters, gradually sinking up to her neck.

"Mmm, it's so good to relax." She moaned as the tension seeped off her back and shoulders.

One of the ladies opened an eye and mumbled half-awake "You're off early, Harumi."

"Yes," Harumi turned to face her, "The manager was kind enough to let me have the rest of the day off, on account of the festival."

"Please," said another bather, "You just sweet talked him into it, you know how he desires you."

"Stop it, Shani." Harumi smiled playfully. "I really don't know what you're talking about."

"You believe that, Juna?" asked Shani, turning to the other woman.

"Not at all, my dear." Juna waded to Harumi and placed her hands on her shoulders. "As if anyone this beautiful could resist using her feminine wiles."

"Juna…" Harumi feigned shyness, enjoying the feel of her soft hands. A woman's touch so much safer than a man's.

"Oh, how I'd kill for your body Harumi!" shouted a third girl.

"It's as if the spirits made her to mock us, Teyna!" Juna shouted in response, slowly gliding her hands along Harumi's sides, stopping at the hips as she leaned in to whisper, her supple breasts pressing against her back. "So, how was he?"

"How was who?" asked Harumi.

"The Avatar, don't play dumb!" Teyna scowled. Harumi slipped out of Juna's grasp.

"I really don't know what you mean." she smiled innocently, her lips sensuous even without the lipstick.

"You led him to his suite." said Shani.

"His very large, very empty, suite." added Juna.

"Stop, I was very professional." said Harumi convincingly. "Nothing happened."

"You didn't even try to seduce him?" Shani gaped.

"You had the last airbender practically in your grasp and you let him go?" asked Juna equally incredulous.

"Come now ladies, I think you overestimate my skill." said Harumi with a shake of her head, "Besides, Lord Akio had already arranged for his entertainment. The Royal Suite wasn't empty."

"Ohhh." the other ladies began to mutter amongst themselves.

"I still would have tried." huffed Teyna.

"But you're too short, deary." said Shani, playfully running her hands through Teyna's hair.

"And much too inexperienced." added Juna.

"Come now, ladies." Harumi smiled at Teyna. "You're all just jealous of her fabulous breasts."

"What?" Shani folded her arms, feigning offense.

"Well, Shani is a little too small, but I on the other hand am simply perfect." Juna smiled as she rose from the bath, the water cascading down her firm breasts, along her stomach, down her toned abdomen and supple thighs, the remaining water drops glistening against her olive skin.

Shani huffed and turned to face the others. Harumi swam up beside her and embraced her softly.

"Come now Shani, pay no attention to her, you're beautiful."

"I'm not." She sighed, hating her chest that didn't change no matter what she tried.

"Men don't care about breasts, it's about how you present yourself. Be confident and they'll see your beauty." said Harumi, knowing men all too well.

"So how's your lover, Teyna?" Juna interjected, wanting to steer the conversation back to her favorite topic.

"Lover?" asked Teyna with a puzzled look.

"Yes, that man in room two hundred fifteen. He always asks for you to serve him."

"Y-yes well…" Teyna looked away.

"Oh! How very _un_-professional of you." Juna clapped her hands with delight.

Shani turned around, "Teyna, tell me you didn't." Teyna lowered her gaze.

"Sweet Sozin!" muttered Shani.

"And what about you Juna?" asked Teyna with a smirk, "How is the gentleman in three hundred and three?"

"Playing hard to get." She said with an audible sigh. "No matter, if he's really that stubborn he doesn't deserve me."

"Excuses excuses." Shani grinned. Recalling the man in question watching her intently in the restaurant. Their eyes had met briefly, and she wondered if perhaps what Harumi had said was true. Should she take the initiative?

"Oh, I see you've turned on the offensive." said Harumi, glad that the momentary fight was over. The realm of women was so much more delicate then that of the outside world–the one ruled by men. Not weaker, no. That was merely the illusion they presented, the oh-so vital facade without which they could never attract and so ensnare the opposite sex. No, it was delicate in its complexity and intuitiveness. There was no forward obstinacy or steadfast resolution. They were like the water, free flowing, infinitely flexible, and yet all encompassing.

"So tell us Harumi." Juna's words brought her back to reality. "Who else was in the Royal Suite?"

* * *

The silk curtains parted seemingly of their own volition. As Zuko entered the chamber he felt both heavy and weightless. His head was pounding, his mind cloudy as if drunk. All the thoughts and worries he had tried to suppress now rushed into the forefront of his mind. He ordered himself to be reasonable, but his head would not obey.

The room was dimly lit by individual candles dispersed seemingly at random throughout the room. A chilly breeze blew in from the open balcony, making Zuko feel even more uneasy. He started to say something then changed his mind. Perhaps she was sleeping and the matter could be put off till tomorrow. And he would spend the night tossing and turning, his peaceful sleep ruined. No, it had to be now.

Zuko's heart was now pounding in rhythm with his head. Each pulsating throb clawing at his skull. As he walked further into the room he felt his skin slowly turn to ice. For a moment he was blind and then he saw her, watching him, standing by her bed at the end of the corridor. The bed he hadn't visited for so long.

Their eyes met and he knew everything. His hands went limp. She didn't need to say a word, with one glance his fears had been realized. Now they were both trapped.

Zuko forced back the questions, the indignation, tightened his fists and asserted control once more. He couldn't change what had happened, it was fate. All that remained was to ensure the future.

"Katara," he began, at the sound of her name her eyes filled with hatred. Zuko readied himself for the attack, but the anger passed as quickly as it came. Her eyes now showed the same feeling he had seen for the past several years–regret. Oh how mutual it was.

Glancing at the room they once shared he felt his mind drift to the past. To all the good times they had shared–all the laughter and smiles. Their wedding had been the happiest day of his life–now it was a half-forgotten memory. Not so long ago things had not seemed so bleak.

One day, not too far back he had felt sentimental. That look of regret had been tearing at him and tearing at him and perhaps had finally made a scratch. It was then, for the first time he had wanted to tell her how he had done wrong by her. How he never should have married her. How it was all _his_ fault, not hers. That perhaps the golden crown was too heavy…but he had stopped himself right then and there.

A Fire Lord could not afford to be weak. To compromise would be fatal. From that day on the remnants of his youth had died and he had become the son of fire. The leader he was born to be. From then on he no longer saw a wife, merely an object of disgust and scorn. What was left of their love turned to ash and his heart turned to other women. To fresh young conquests through which he could still see his former self. He had closed the door on the past and on their future. From that day on they were always apart.

"You came." She whispered, her voice sounded strange to him.

"Yes, you asked me to come. What is it?"

"Zuko I'm…" she felt the tears welling up. She tried to hold them back, but she didn't have the strength. She hated being weak in front of him, wanting so much to be strong. To tell him as she had wanted to tell him, but her facade crumbled away. "I'm…I'm…" A sob broke through then another and another. The tears streamed down her face and the words she had been fumbling for vanished from her mind.

Zuko ran up and caught her in his arms. She felt her knees give out and she collapsed into his embrace. Whatever hatred she had, the loathing, the disgust, all were gone for that moment. Her mind drifted away from her inner hell, she thought of Aang. He had visited her in the night, or was it just a dream? No, it had to have been real. He had come back–back to her, forgiving her for all her wrongs. Wanting to make amends. His return had brought her a brief relief from her anguish–and even so she had deceived him. If only to protect him.

In spite of himself, Zuko hugged her gently and for the first time in what felt like years he wished for her to be happy. Happy as she had once been–with him. It was all his fault, he knew it– deep down–no matter how hard he tried to think otherwise. Perhaps it wasn't too late. Maybe they could bury the last few years and start anew. Did she feel the same way?

Katara's weeping gradually subsided, and she stepped out of his arms feeling weaker than before. As she wiped away her tears, Zuko felt the momentary feelings fade away into oblivion. He knew that she was lost to him. That the chance for reconciliation had passed. He was always too late.

"How far along are you?" he asked in a toneless voice. The words echoing in the through the room–the phrase sounding harsh in the vastly opulent space.

"A little over a month." she replied, avoiding his eyes. Wanting the conversation to end, wanting more time to think. But no matter what she decided, or he decided, she would never forgive him.

"Katara if it lives…"he let the sentence hang, watching her for a reaction. Seeing none he decided to continue. "Then they will be part of the Royal family. If it's a son he will succeed me. If it's a daughter I'll care for her as well."

Zuko waited for a refusal, a bitter curse, but none came.

"Katara I need…this nation needs a successor, and a Fire Lady." He stroked his chin deciding to speak his mind. He had thought of making Mai his consort, but perhaps she could be more than that. Or perhaps Lien Yun. It had been a while since he and Katara had been together in public, rumors were starting to circulate. It would be for the best. "I know that this hasn't been easy for you, and I…"

"Zuko." She looked up at him with such force that he involuntarily stepped back. "I hate you with every ounce of my being. I hate the throne, and what you've turned me into. I'm having this child, but it won't be your successor. It'll have nothing to do with you or the Fire Nation. Ever!"

* * *

Ichiro walked casually down the winding main street that snaked its way through the center of the Capital's rich Eastern District. To his back was the Royal Dragon Hotel where he lived, justly positioned at the end or "head" of the serpent like avenue, in front of him far in the distance was the Fire Lord's Palace, obscured by the multitude of towering buildings and battlements.

The Eastern District was very clean and everything was of the highest quality. Even higher than the rest of the city, which was already top-class. In the recent years much of the Capital had moved outside the imperious crater, and now many residential areas dotted the previously blemishless surface of the island. It was in these areas that one might still catch a scent of the old world–the one that had existed before the Avatar brought an end to the War.

They weren't poor areas. No, poor wasn't the right word. Some of them were almost as rich as the main city. But there was certainly a dearth of society. A lack of upper-class that gave it that certain atmosphere. A taste of decadence and corruption. And indeed this was where the scum resided. It was veiled, of course. Only Earth Kingdom savages would be blatant in their crimes–and proud. Under Sozin the crime lords had learned all too quickly that theirs would be the realm of shadows. For there they were in their element, and not even the Fire Lord could purge them fully.

There were brothels in these places, cheaper and less opulent then those in the main city, but not lacking in quality. And the many practices that were deemed too indulgent, even for the hedonistic denizens of the Capital were readily available there. Among other things there were also tea shops, restaurants, massage parlors, gambling dens, smokehouses, steam baths, bending tournaments, animal fights, something for everyone. But despite the seeming chaos of these places everything was kept neat and organized. Beneath the shambles above lay a carefully spun web of checks and balances, at the center of which was Lord Akio.

Stopping at a street vendor, Ichiro purchased the overpriced apple from the seller without haggling. To do so would lower him. Only those of the middle class and servants, and those on the outskirts haggled. It was a peasant custom and one that was taboo in the capital. Biting into it, he resisted the urge to wrinkle his nose. The apple was sour and obviously plucked too early, nonetheless he smiled and nodded approvingly to the merchant and went on his way. He loved living in the Capital, the center of the world. The feeling of being in the epicenter of things filled him with endless pride, more so than his rank as a third tier boss in the Murakami Clan.

He was in charge of the Nishimura group, under the Kamida Family. His superior, the boss of the Kamida, Ojin, was a weak willed, lazy oaf. Ichiro's group was now the main source of revenue for the family, without him they would have been disbanded long ago. He despised being a subordinate to an imbecile like him. Still there was nothing to be done. In the  
Underworld advancement was slow and usually based on years of service, not merit. Still, he hoped his efforts had not gone unnoticed. He hoped that one day soon he would be in charge of his own family, and then perhaps, with luck, he would be made Lieutenant. He turned the corner and went down a smaller street.

The Murakami owed him much, it was on his initiative that the Kamida family had launched a sudden attack on the Red Turban Gang. Under his supervision that their leader had been found and taken prisoner. And now it was under his leadership that the remnants of the Gang were being hunted down and their territory gradually assimilated. The recent string of attacks did not bother him too much. A cornered animal is always at its fiercest. He had more than enough manpower, and even if he didn't he could always ask for more. The world belonged to the Murakami, there was no one close to second place. No one except Kota and his Tempest Syndicate, he thought, but they were a distant threat, and as of now they had been as quiet as mice.

It was close to midday now, and Ichiro gradually let his mind relax. He had had an excellent lunch, his favorite waitress had been on duty that day, a shame she did not come to his table. But no matter, he wasn't going anywhere, and there was time enough to get better acquainted. Yes, his life was only getting better.

Ichiro stopped abruptly. The street had suddenly grown empty. Ahead he saw none of the usual street vendors, even the pedestrians that normally crowded the sidewalks were nowhere to be found. In the distance he heard the faint murmur of day to day traffic but it sounded almost eerie against the backdrop of silence. He took a step forward and then another, he felt eyes watching him and he increased his pace. Ichiro turned the corner at the end of the street, still no one in sight. He broke into a run, sure now that he was being watched. At the end of the street he saw a group of four men armed with broadswords–Red Turbans on their heads. He turned on his heels and ran in the opposite direction. Four more men, dressed and armed similarly, blocked his path. Not pausing for a second, Ichiro dashed into a side alley, his breath shallow. Ahead the way seemed clear. Suddenly two men jumped down off the walls and blocked his path. They wore rough clothing and shoes commonly worn by streetfighters, they had dragon tattoos on their arms and red claw marks painted on their faces, one was armed with a pair of knives. Behind him the others had caught up and were now advancing on him tentatively.

He assumed a fighting stance, knowing it was pointless. Knowing he was finished. Unthinkable that they could have made it into the main city, past all the guards and checkpoints. Even more unthinkable that they had known exactly where and how to find him. There was only one answer: he had been betrayed.

"Watch out!" shouted one of the streetfighters. A sword slashed out of nowhere and two Red Turbans collapsed on the ground. Seeing his chance, Ichiro dashed at one of the streetfighters and floored him before he could firebend. The second hurtled a knife, but in the confusion he missed and Ichiro sent him sprawling with a strike to the adam's apple. Rapidly turning to face the remaining fighters he saw to his surprise that they all lay limp in a pool of their own blood. Leaning against the wall was a dark haired man, casually wiping off a broadsword on one of the dead men's clothes.

Eyeing him warily, Ichiro straightened his collar and quieted his thoughts. His heart was pounding in his chest, nonetheless he forced his breathing to be calm. It was times like these that he wished he could firebend–that alone was missing in his life. His father had hated him for that, the only non-bender born into a long line of firebenders. He had left home as soon as he was old enough, even his mother had not been sad to see him go.

"Nice friends you have." said the man, his long hair partially obscuring his face. He was shorter than Ichiro, of the same build, his eyes brown to Ichiro's gold.

"Thanks for er, for your help. Anything you want I'd be happy to–"

"A few gold coins is fine." said the man nonchalantly, then changing his mind, "Or better yet you can treat me to dinner. Every place in this damned capital is far too expensive."

"Consider it done." said Ichiro, the adrenaline wearing off , his mind working clearly now. A thought popped into his mind. "You sure are skilled with that sword of yours."

"What, this?" the man tossed it into the group of corpses. "It's not mine, it was his." He pointed to one of the empty faces. "I don't carry weapons."

"Why'd you help me?"

"Seemed like you needed it." came the reply, and the man smiled strangely.

Smiling back, Ichiro said, "You seem like you're unemployed, you interested in a job?"

"What kind of job?" asked the man, arching a brow.

"A job where your talents can be put to good use." said Ichiro, his mind racing with possibilities. With a subordinate like that his plans might yet be realized. There was to be a meeting of all the Family Heads and their officers tonight, and if he was promoted–_when _he was promoted, Ichiro corrected himself, he would need all the talent he could find. "What do you say?"

"Sounds…interesting. What are the specifics?"

"I'll explain over dinner." said Ichiro, confident he would join him now. After all, who could refuse such an offer. "This way." He motioned and the man followed him. As an afterthought Ichiro asked, "What's your name?"

The man smiled once again, "Call me Shen."


	7. Air of Change

The warm light of the dawn crept through the windows and fell gently on the Avatar's face. His eyes were closed, but Aang wasn't asleep. He had woken up almost an hour ago, well rested and at peace for the first time in years. At first he had thought he was still dreaming. His waking life had been bitter for so long he had forgotten what it was like to be anything but miserable. Now everything seemed so bright, it was almost surreal.

Slowly opening his eyes, he blinked a few times, adjusting to the light. He inhaled slowly, the air fresh and sweet with the aroma of wild flowers. Lowering his gaze, Aang's eyes came to rest on the sleeping face of a beautiful woman. She was serene in her slumber, her body pressed softly against his while her dark hair covered the pillows like a silken shroud.

With her chest pressed against the back of his neck, her companion laid on the opposite site, her breathing soft, almost melodic, her hands straying further south. Carefully, Aang inched his way out of the bed, not wanting to wake them.

Walking into the bathroom, Aang paused to appreciate the opulence. The Royal Dragon was one of the first buildings to utilize a sophisticated system of indoor plumbing, providing every room and suite with a fully functioning shower, sink, and toilet.

As he turned on the shower, Aang thought once more about the marvel of technology. Not too long ago, anyone who could control water would have been thought a waterbender, now almost anyone could make the elements bend to their will. At the rate things were changing, would the world still need benders? Would the world still need the Avatar?

It was a disturbing thought. A thought that he had heard whispered in Ba Sing Se as well as Republic City. Now the whispers had grown into shouts. Anti-Bending groups were gathering more and more followers, especially the so called "Equalists" in Republic City. As if bending was the cause of every misfortune and getting rid of it would fix everything.

Perhaps from their point of view it makes sense, he thought. For the down trodden and the oppressed it made sense to blame those who seemed to be given every privilege–who seemed to have every advantage. If only they could see the world through his eyes.

Climbing into the shower, Aang felt the warm waters wash the heavy thoughts away. The hot steam gradually quieting his mind and bringing with it memories of the previous day.

"We're a gift from Lord Akio." said the woman with brown hair.

"We're here to make your stay more enjoyable." said the other, her eyes beckoning to him.

"Lord Akio is very generous." muttered Aang, his mind not working. His heart racing.

"Mm, you must be weary from your long journey." the woman with brown hair stood up and walked over to him, placing her hands on his shoulders and giving him a soothing massage, whispering in his ear. "Come, and we'll help you unwind."

Aang followed her–still overwhelmed as she sat him down on the couch. The woman with black hair smirked as she caught his gaze.

"You seem perplexed, Lord Avatar. Have you never been with a woman before?" she asked.

"I have." He replied, not angry. It had been right after Katara had broken his heart. He had flown for miles trying to escape the pain, before at last collapsing from exhaustion. When he awoke, he found himself in a bed in the North Pole, a girl of 16 tending to him. He made love to her there on that bed, the first time for both of them. He still wasn't sure if it was that she reminded him of Katara or his pain that drove him to her, but the very next day he fled–ashamed of his weakness.

"Relax, Avatar Aang." said the girl with brown hair, smiling as she went down on her knees in front of him. "Miwa and I will take good care of you." She glided her hands up his legs letting them come to rest at his crotch. Aang barely suppressed a shiver.

"No fair, Jia." said Miwa with a pout. "I want him first."

"Patience, my dear." Jia grinned, her hands slowly undoing Aang's pants before pulling them off. "You'll have your turn." She pulled his underpants off with a swift motion and wrapped her fingers around his member. "It seems my Lord Avatar can't be patient any longer."

Jia flicked her hair back and gradually lowered her head, the corners of her lips wrapping around the tip of his member. Aang gasped, stiffening a thousand fold, his heart pounding in his chest. She flicked her tongue out licking the tip, teasing him, wanting him to beg for it. Almost against his will, Aang felt himself thrusting forward, desperate for more. She smirked to herself before finally acquiescing– taking his entire length into her mouth.

Aang clenched his teeth, grunting as she went down on him. The warm, moist sensation overwhelming. Working his fingers into her hair he began to feel himself reaching his limit.

Sensing his pleasure increasing she backed off a little, not wanting him to finish just yet. Lifting her head up she licked her lips.

"I think we've got him worked up now, Miwa."

"Yes, let's see what he can do in bed." They took him by each hand, taking off his shirt–leaving him completely naked–before leading him to the massive and extravagant bed. Slipping out of their dresses they came up on either side of him. Jia pushed him down onto the mattress and climbed on top of him, crawling on her knees until she stood hovering above his erection.

"Be gentle." She whispered, before lowering herself slowly onto his length, taking him in inch by inch. Aang moaned, feeling her walls enveloping him tightly from all sides. As she reached her limit, Jia sighed with pleasure before going back up, slowly working it up into a steady pace. The Avatar's hands traveled freely along her body, playing with her supple breasts, gliding down her abdomen, before coming to rest on her perfect rear. Miwa seamlessly glided up behind her, laying hot kisses along her neck and shoulder, wanting so badly to have the Avatar next.

For Aang the heat was overwhelming–for a moment his vision blurred, his body numb as he came. When he returned to his senses, his first reaction was to apologize, but Jia silenced him with a kiss.

"Do not be sorry, Avatar Aang. The day is young, rest for a while." She climbed off of him and came to lay at his side.

"We are here to serve your needs, Lord Avatar. Yours and yours alone." said Miwa. "Whatever you desire, you shall have."

Turning off the shower, Aang grabbed a towel and stepped out onto the heated floors. As much as he enjoyed leisure and rest the world still needed the Avatar. Now that his mind was clear about Katara it was time he returned to his earthly and spiritual duties. Republic City was still a fragile balance, a push in either direction could easily undo all the years of work and as Avatar it was his duty to keep the world at peace. Then there was the matter of the Air Nomads, his own people, now gone from the world. As the last airbender, he and he alone could restore their nation. It was high time he left the capital.

When he made it back to the bedroom both women were gone and the bed was made. On the covers was a small note bearing an intricate seal. Opening it, Aang read through the contents:

_Avatar Aang,_

_I trust your room was to your liking. I can imagine the burden of your responsibilities can become strenuous at times and I hope that this small gift has put you at ease, if only for one night. As the Avatar I know you must have many pressing duties, but I hope you may stay with us until the festival. I wish to discuss certain matters which may be of great interest to you. I hope to see you at my palace tomorrow noon. Until then, feel free to make use of the Royal Suite and to ask anything of the hotel staff._

_Your friend,_

_Lord Akio_

'Certain matters?' thought Aang, I wonder what he wants to discuss. Considering Akio's hospitality and generosity it would be rude of him to refuse the offer. After all, it would only be one more day.

* * *

Katara stared at the city below. As always it seemed so bright and full of life. Suddenly, a strong gust of wind slammed into her and she almost lost her grip, barely managing to hold on.

It was ironic, only moments ago she was so anxious to leap from the balcony–to plummet to her death–and now she could barely pry her fingers off the railing. Another gust of wind hit her and her hands turned white as she held on for her life. For _their_ life.

As much as she hated Zuko, as much as she wanted an end to it all, she couldn't bring herself to kill her own child–even if Zuko was the father. The moment she had climbed over the railing her mind had been flooded by thoughts: Was it a boy or a girl? Would it be a firebender or waterbender? Would it have her eyes, her hair?

Then she had begun to think of names, and against her will began to imagine her child, a tiny baby at first, growing up gradually, becoming a toddler, then a kid, then a teen, and then one day an adult.

Her resolve disintegrated, she couldn't do it. Gathering her strength, Katara climbed back over swiftly as another gust of wind battered the palace.

Walking back into her room, Katara sat down wearily on the bed. She felt as if all her strength was gone and she wanted to collapse and sleep forever, but she shook herself awake. Now was not the time for sleep. She had chosen to live–to let her child live–but she would never let Zuko have it. To pollute it as he had done her. She would have to run.

Prying her door open ever so slightly she saw two Royal Procession guards outside–alert and menacing. She cursed silently, Zuko was no fool. The only other way out was the balcony, but that was a long way down and in her present condition she wasn't so sure she could make it.

Suppose I do make it, what then? Katara paced around the room. Zuko's guards are spread all over the palace and even if I make it past them I'd still have to make it off of this island, out of Fire Nation territory, avoiding any and all Fire Nation ships along the way. Even Aang would have trouble with that.

Aang, she thought, I could ask him to help me. No, Katara shook her head, determined. I can't get him involved in all of this, not after all that's happened. There must be another way.

A knock on her door snapped her out of her thoughts.

"Your majesty?" her servant Su Qi walked in carrying a tray with a pot of tea and a porcelain cup. Seeing her she bowed politely, "I hope I haven't disturbed you, your majesty."

"It's fine, Su Qi." She smiled weakly, relieved that it was only her.

Setting the tray down on a table, Su Qi deftly poured the tea into the cup and brought it to her. "Drink this, your majesty, the physician says it will give you strength so that your child will grow happy and healthy." She smiled sweetly.

Katara accepted the cup and took a sip, the tea was strong and smelled of pungent herbs, nonetheless she forced it down before handing back the cup.

Taking the cup, Su Qi placed it back on the tray. "Are you hungry majesty? Do you want me to bring you anything?"

"No I'm fine, thank you."

"Your majesty." Su Qi bowed and walked towards the door.

Katara began to sit on her bed when a thought suddenly struck her. "Su Qi!"

"Majesty?" Su Qi turned around, puzzled.

"I…I need your help."

* * *

"My Lord, all the bosses and their captains have arrived. Shall we proceed with the meeting?"

"In a moment, Ume, it's always best to keep them waiting." Akio adjusted his headgear before walking out into the corridor.

"Of course, my lord." a hint of a smile flashed across her lips as she followed him.

"Are any of them aware of the situation?"

"No, but Boss Shuron of the Okura Family is suspicious. He's wondering why our shipments have declined so drastically."

"Well, he won't have to wonder for much longer. Is Ambassador Cheo's shipment still on schedule?"

"Yes, my lord. Though in light of recent events do you really think it wise to go through with the shipment?"

"Of course, we can't afford to look weak."

"Tempest Kota has surely heard of it by now, and you can be certain he'll stop at nothing to hit us where it will hurt most."

"Come now, Ume." Akio smirked, "Don't you have faith in me?"

"I would stake my life on your word alone, my lord." She said with determination. "I merely voice the worries of others."

"Let them worry, fear is good every so often."

Akio turned left and walked into the elaborate waiting room that preceded the main hall of his palace. Inside his wives and concubines and their children stood waiting.

Greeting his current favorite he smiled and bowed politely, "Kayo, you look beautiful today."

She eagerly returned his bow. "Thank you, my lord. I pray to the spirits that I will soon give you a son." From the corner of her eye she saw Yuzuki's hate-filled eyes and she laughed on the inside.

Turning to Yuzuki, he bowed to her as well. "Yuzuki, you're radiant as ever, beloved."

"My lord." She bowed low. "Your son and daughters have missed you terribly."

"Father." A young boy of 8 bowed politely. He was handsome, tall for his age, he had his father's jet black hair but his eyes were golden like his mother's.

"Ah, Yuichi, more of a man every day. Have you been studying hard?"

"Yes, but studying bores me. I'd rather focus on my bending."

"I'm sure you would." Akio smiled, even at his young age Yuichi was a true protégée, his firebending master was awed by how quickly he grasped the techniques, and he was already practicing the advanced set. "But power is nothing without discipline. A weaker man with a brain is a hundred times deadlier than a strong man without."

"And Amaya, Kimiyo." His two daughters bowed gracefully. "I wager it won't be long before you'll have suitors begging for your hands in marriage."

"I don't want to be married yet, father." said Kimiyo with a frown. She was a small girl of 5, with soft brown hair and big radiant eyes, golden like her brother's.

"Hush, Kimiyo." said Amaya, raising a finger to her lips. She was 7, beautiful, with the same dark hair as her father and brother, but her eyes were a darker shade of gold.

Reaching his third and youngest wife, Akio bowed politely, though to a lesser degree than to the others. As the youngest wife not currently in favor, custom decreed she was below the rest.

"My lord." She returned the bow gracefully. She was of an average height, her figure slender but womanly, she had dark brown hair and kind golden eyes set in a delicate noble face. In her arms she held a baby boy wrapped in a silk blanket.

"Manami, how is he?"

"He's growing quickly, my lord. Takeo, say hello to your father." The boy opened his eyes sleepily– they were coal grey like his father's–and looked at Akio, his gaze unusually strong for such a young child.

"Has he spoken words yet?"

"No, not yet, but then again he's still so little." She gazed at Takeo lovingly.

Akio turned and made his way towards the main hall, bowing briefly to his two concubines. He had kept the bosses waiting long enough. It was time to figure out a solution to this debacle, and a solution to Tempest Kota.

As soon as he walked through the doors, everyone in the main hall fell silent and bowed low in respect. Taking a seat at the head of the large table in the center of the room, with Ume at his side, he motioned them to rise, and one by one they took their places at the council.

"Gentlemen," began Akio, his voice strong and steady. "I hope this sudden meeting hasn't caused you any great inconvenience. It was unavoidable."

"My lord," A man in his forties stood up. He was tall with graying hair, thick sideburns, and cruel prying eyes set on a stern face. "We were all wondering, where is Lieutenant Kuro?"

"Regrettably, my second in command is dead, killed by Tempest Kota." said Akio, his voice still calm. A murmur went through the room.

"Dead?" muttered another, "Who'll head the Akera Family?"

"A good point." continued the man. "With Kuro dead there are now two vacancies on the council. One for second in command and another for the leadership of Kuro's Family."

Akio nodded, "You're right, Shuron. For the time being the post of Lieutenant will be fulfilled by Ume, until I have chosen Kuro's successor." Shuron grimaced and sat back down bitterly.

Akio knew how much he coveted the position. He had tried for years to undermine Kuro, at the same trying to prove his own worth. It was that very ambition that made his family, the Okura, the richest and most powerful in the Murakami Clan. But all his strengths and talents aside, Shuron was more accustomed to lead than to follow. A lieutenant needed to be open to suggestions and criticisms, able to negotiate, to consolidate, and most importantly to obey.

Though Akio never saw or heard a hint of treason from him, he sensed Shuron's amibition did not stop at Lieutenant. It would be only too easy for him to arrange an "accident" and as second in command he would easily take over.

"And what of the Akera family?" voiced another.

To his displeasure Akio saw Boss Loon standing, a man of average height with a pudgy face and small greedy eyes. He was in charge of the Harada Family that ran the Western District. Whereas Shuron atleast made an effort to conceal his thoughts, Loon's mind was like an open book.

"Their underboss, Eri, will take–"

"Eri?" Loon glared at the woman sitting across from him. "You're going to let a woman run one of our most important families?"

"So what if I am a woman?" Eri matched his glare. She was a tough woman in her thirties, her hair pitch black like her eyes. "I've led more operations and taken more territory than you ever will. If anything, I wonder why Lord Akio let a pig like you join the council."

Loon gritted his teeth, "Watch yourself, bitch." He hissed.

"Or you'll do what, exactly?"

"Enough." Akio ordered. "My decision is final." The two of them begrudgingly looked away.

"As some of you may have noticed," he continued, "Our business has been declining. Many of you are aware of the threat Tempest Kota and his syndicate pose, but until now his attacks have been small and the damage insignificant. That is, until two days ago, when he dealt a major blow to our operations in Republic City. Kuro and most of his men there were killed and our hold in that area has been steadily weakening."

"How many men have we lost?" asked Shuron.

"Almost two hundred now," the entire room went silent, "They've been hitting our shipments too but fortunately our fleet is still fully intact."

"My Lord, we should strike back at once." said a man at the end of the table. "Give me a day to organize all my men and ships and we'll destroy that son of a bitch once and for all!"

Akio smirked, Ryota was always eager for a fight. He was in his thirties, a former army officer, Head of the Tsukino Family, broad shouldered, with a thick black beard, and a face that seemed to thirst for battle.

"While I do appreciate the sentiment, Ryota, Kota's no fool. He would never risk fighting us on water. And on land he has the advantage. For the time being we must focus on keeping our remaining territories safe." Standing up he looked at the man sitting closest to him. "Isn't that right Boss Ojin?"

"Y-yes, my lord." Ojin was a middle-aged man, thin, his hair grey and balding. He was head of the Kamida Family in charge of the rich Eastern District.

"I understand that your underboss, Ichiro, was ambushed and almost killed by members of the Dragon Claw and Red Turban gangs."

"That is true, my lord." Ojin turned his head and glared at Ichiro who sat behind him. That young rascal was a never ending pain in his side. Always hounding him to expand his territory, to muscle out rival gangs, never content with what he had.

I should've just left him in the street, he thought, he's more trouble than he's worth.

Ichiro pretended not to notice the glare. Ojin was too weak-willed to be boss and he wouldn't stay on this council much longer. With any luck, Lord Akio might see fit to replace Ojin with himself. After all, he had made the Kamida Family undisputed masters of the Easter District. It was now one of the most powerful families in the Murakami, second only to the Okura. All that Ojin had, he owed him.

From the corner of his eye he saw Shen watching the meeting carefully. At dinner it hadn't taken Ichiro long to convince him to join.

"Murakami Clan, huh?" he had said with a mild expression of surprise. "Go figure, I just saved the life of a boss in the biggest criminal organization in the Fire Nation."

"The world, Shen." Ichiro smiled. "Listen, I'm not a major boss yet, I'm a third tier leader, but I'm moving up through the ranks. There's going to be a big meeting of the entire organization and I'm almost certain I'll be promoted to head my own family. When that happens, I'll need someone with your skills. Someone I can trust with my life."

"That's pretty heavy," Shen scratched his head. "Do you really want to trust me with your life?"

Ichiro stroked his chin, "I've always been good at judging people, and I can tell you're not the kind of man to stab his friend in the back." Shen scoffed, but Ichiro continued. "I can also tell you're much smarter than you pretend to be. You've traveled the world and you know a great deal. But you're also carrying a great burden."

Shen started. "It pains you greatly, but you try your best to hide it from others–even from yourself."

"Alright," Shen interrupted, hiding his shock. "I'll admit your offer is very generous, but I'm a loner. I've never been good at working with others. And aside from petty crimes, I have little experience with the criminal underworld."

Ichiro laughed, "Neither do most criminals, that's why organizations like this exist. Each person brings their own skills to the table, the rest they pick up as they go. Trust me Shen, you'll be an expert in no time at all."

After a little haggling, which was only to be expected, they had worked out most of the details. All except one.

"Before I join, promise me one thing." Shen looked him in the eyes forcefully.

"Of course." Ichiro matched his gaze.

"Don't try to dig up my past."

Despite his promise, Ichiro could not help but be curious. What did Shen have to hide?

"This latest incident proves we still have many enemies within our borders." said Lord Akio, glancing at each of his bosses in turn. "There are several gangs that continue to oppose us. Before we can focus on Tempest Kota we must eliminate them."

Sitting down he added, "Of course, I shall be watching your progress. The Family Head that shows the most promise will become my new Lieutenant."

Tension filled the room as the bosses murmured and turned to their subordinates.

"Oh, one last item of business." The room fell silent. "Boss Arata."

Hearing his name, Arata rose from his seat nervously. He was a small man, neatly dressed, short hair, nervous eyes. "Yes, my lord?"

"I'm interested to hear just how the Dragon Claw gang managed to make its way into the capital."

"I-I don't know. None of my men reported any movements and–"

"More importantly, it's been almost a month since I ordered their destruction, and yet here they are, practically unscathed, and bold enough to strike us in our own territory in broad daylight." Akio stared him down. "Well?"

Arata began to shake, "My Lord, I've always done my upmost for the–"

"Arata, you're a fool and a disgrace to the Murakami Clan. Your failures as boss are beyond count and your very presence irritates me. You're hereby stripped of your leadership, get out of my sight."

"B-but, my lord, please!"

"Out, before I take your life as well." Arata scrambled to his feet and ran out of the hall.

"Now then," Akio continued, "It seems we have one more opening. The position of boss requires a great deal of strength and skill, but most importantly it requires initiative, and among all our subordinates I can think of only one who truly possesses these qualities." Glancing at Ichiro, he smiled.

"Ichiro, I hereby name you Head of the Shiraga Family. May you prove your worth."


	8. Betrayal

It was dark. The moon was obscured by thick clouds and the sound of thunder rumbled in the distance. The Fire Lord's palace was quiet, the stillness unbroken except for the occasional guard's footsteps. Only a few lights were on in the main structure and they grew fewer by the hour. A sudden bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, briefly illuminating the courtyard. The thunder followed almost immediately and with such force that the whole city must surely wake. And yet the city and the palace slept as soundly as ever.

"This way." whispered Su Qi, motioning with her hand.

Katara followed carefully, mindful of her surroundings. Still in the darkness it was hard to see anything and she relied solely on her memory of the palace to guide her through. Su Qi stopped at a large statue and turning around swiftly put a finger to her lips. Turning her head once more she watched the darkness carefully. Soon Katara saw them as well, two Royal Procession guards making their way towards their hiding place. Nervously she stooped lower, praying that the darkness would hide them. At that moment another burst of lightning crackled through the sky, accompanied by a symphony of thunder. As the momentary illumination died away a soft rain began to fall.

By the time the two guards had reached them the rain had grown much stronger. The wind outside was freezing and seemed to penetrate Katara's clothing and her very skin, chilling her all the way to the bone. She shivered, half from cold, half from fear. As the footsteps grew even closer she forced herself to be still.

The two guards came to a stop only a few feet away, one of them rubbed his hands together and gave a short breath of fire to warm them.

"When's the next shift supposed to relieve us?" asked the other guard, folding his arms comfortably.

"Couple of minutes."

"Fucking hate this weather, I miss the summer."

"Don't worry, only a few more months to go."

"Heh, that's comforting."

"Speaking of comfort, are you coming with us to the Red Oasis?"

The other guard stomped his feet, "Nah, I don't have the money for that sortof place."

"Common, there's nothing like a good looking girl to warm you up." said the guard, rubbing his hands once more.

The other guard sighed, "Maybe next week."

"You know you really need to go out more. Back in Sozin's time you weren't considered a real man unless you'd made the four."

"'Made the four?'"

"Yeah, you know, fucked a girl in each of the four nations."

The guard laughed, "Well thanks to Sozin, now it's more like make the three!"

At that they both roared with laughter, stopping only when one of them coughed to signal the new shift was approaching with the on duty officer. The two of them stood at attention.

"At ease." said the officer. "Anything to report?"

"No, sir, everything's normal."

"Very well, get back inside. You're to relieve the next shift in two hours."

"Yes, sir."

As the two guards made their way back the officer looked around carefully, his eyes narrowing.

"Something wrong, sir?" asked one of the new guards.

"I thought I heard something. One of you, check behind the statue."

"Yes, sir." The guard walked around the statue carefully, his arms in front of him ready to attack. It was hard to see in the darkness so he made a small flame. With the light from the fire he could almost make out two shadows on the other side of the statue. The guard tensed, readying himself. Moving as quietly as possible–then leaping to attack. There was no one there, the shadows coming from a nearby bush.

"It's all clear, sir." He called, greatly relieved, before making his way back.

Su Qi waited until the footsteps had grown distant, then waited a few minutes more to be certain before pulling the lever to open the secret compartment at the statue's base. She peered outside then motioned for Katara to follow. The rain was somewhat lessening, but the cold wind continued to be unrelenting. Katara was painfully aware of how easily they could be spotted. On every side she could hear the echoes of footsteps or the splash of boots in the rain. A single error and it was all over.

"Majesty." Su Qi whispered. "We have to go through the garden path, too many guards here. Follow me closely, it's very easy to get lost."

Katara followed her blindly, wondering how she knew all these secrets. Even as a Fire Lady Katara had not been privy to them. Or perhaps Zuko hadn't trusted her. She scoffed, as if she was the one to suspect. Nonetheless, she was grateful for Su Qi's knowledge, and for all that she'd done. When she had first asked for her help, Su Qi had seemed bewildered, and Katara had thought for sure that she would tell Zuko. But the next day she had told her that she would help. That night Su Qi had drugged the guards' food and when they were fast asleep she had snuck Katara out of her room–dressed in servant clothing.

Su Qi made a sharp turn left through some bushes, then right at a fountain, then left again at another fountain, narrowly avoiding a second patrol. They continued zigzagging through the palace gardens dodging every sentry in a seemingly perfect rhythm. At last they reached the outer wall. Beyond it lay the capital city and beyond that…

Su Qi knocked along the stones until she found a hollow spot. Pulling a secret lever she opened a small postern and the two of them slipped outside into the capital. Once they were certain they weren't followed the two of them ran as fast as they could and were soon lost amidst the crowd.

When they finally stopped, Katara took a deep breath, the anxiety gradually wearing off. She looked up at the sky. Although it was dark and turbulent, for the first time in years she felt truly free.

"Come, majesty." said Su Qi. "We must hurry. It's dangerous to linger."

Katara followed her further down the street, suddenly turning into a side alley and into a narrower avenue. It was dark here. The street lights were few and Katara felt uneasy.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Somewhere safe, majesty." Su Qi continued her fast pace. "Don't worry, we're almost there."

Katara looked around, there wasn't a single person on the street. Even the regular city guards were nowhere to be seen. Su Qi disappeared around the corner, and Katara ran to catch up. As she turned the corner she saw a dozen men standing beside a large vehicle. They were dressed in dark formal robes with an insignia pin that bore the character "Murakami". As she began to turn around she saw another dozen men waiting behind her.

The door to the vehicle opened and Lord Akio stepped out onto the sidewalk. He smiled kindly.

"Your majesty, I would be honored if you would join me."

* * *

Zuko looked on as the warship slipped off the drydock and into the water. All along the shore a similar scene was being enacted as one by one its sister ships joined it in the harbor. There were ten in all. All of them massive. All of them new. They were the latest design created by War Minister Choy, Qin's replacement.

They featured a much more practical sleek design, as opposed to the cumbersome Empire-Class and dreadnoughts favored by his father. In addition, the armaments they carried had been greatly improved. Each warship possessed torpedo tubes, repeating ballistas, rocket platforms, and new mechanized catapults that took half the time to reload. Their engines had also been upgraded using Sokka's latest designs. But according to him even these would soon be outdated as he was in the process of creating what he called a "steam turbine". Although Zuko didn't fully understand its workings, Sokka claimed that this device could power not only warships but also entire cities. Now _there_ was a device the Fire Nation would definitely need to integrate into its society.

Since before the Great War, the Fire Nation had always excelled in technology. Always decades ahead of the other nations. It was what had made their armies unstoppable in the conflict, though Sozin and Azulon had thought different. The reality was that a firebender, by himself, was no better than any other bender. But with an army of tanks and a fleet of ironclad warships to support him, he was invincible. That was the secret to their continued success–Innovation. And as Fire Lord it was his duty to continue to strive for the future, even in extremis. They couldn't afford anything less.

Turning to his left, Zuko glanced at Lord Akio, unreadable as always. "What do you think of my new ships?" he asked. From the corner of his eye he saw one of the warships cut through the civilian harbor, as he had instructed, nearly capsizing one of Lord Akio's sloops–a tiny speck compared to the warship.

"Oh, they are quite impressive, majesty. Truly a sight to see." Akio replied without guile, "Then again I've never been much of a naval man. I much prefer the sight on land." He turned in the direction of his hotel– the Royal Dragon–the tallest building in the entire Fire Nation.

Zuko resisted the urge to scowl. Around the Royal Dragon the frames of several new buildings were under construction, but they were nowhere near completion. Even using the latest methods it would take at least another four to five years before they were finished. How did that bastard manage to build his "Royal Dragon" so fast?

With money of course, thought Zuko. If rumors are true, Akio's got enough money stashed away to rival my royal vaults. And he has the added advantage of not having to maintain a nation. Yes, Akio, you are a dangerous man. Maybe too dangerous. Perhaps I've let you grow too strong. Strong enough to become a liability…

As much as Zuko relished the thought of humbling such a man, for the time being he still had use of him. Especially now that Katara had managed to escape. Zuko clenched his teeth. How did that bitch manage to slip past my guards? To simply stroll out of the Royal Palace like it was a common noodle shop. He had already severely punished all the guards that had been on duty that night and had the officers thrown in the dungeons.

Incompetent bastards, he swore. But that bitch, how dare she! To steal my child from me. He clenched his fist to keep down his rage. When I find her, and find her I will, I'll make sure she regrets this for the rest of her short life!

"Something troubling you, majesty?" Zuko saw Akio's careful eyes watching him and he wondered if he had made a slip. But once more to his frustration he couldn't read anything off his face. Zuko forced himself to be calm.

"As a matter of fact, there is something. Something of great importance." Zuko gestured forward. "Walk with me?"

"As you wish, majesty." Akio followed him at a polite distance as they walked along the now empty docks. To their right, a hundred or so Royal Procession guards stood at attention, their gaze sharp and alert. They were a few feet away so as not to eavesdrop, but Akio knew they were still extremely deadly at this range.

"What I'm about to tell you must be kept in the utmost secrecy."

"Of course, your majesty."

"My wife has gone missing." Zuko glanced behind him for a reaction.

"That…that is indeed a matter of great importance." said Akio, his shock seemingly genuine.

"She disappeared sometime last night. My men have searched almost every inch of this city and have found no sign of her." Zuko stopped and turned around. "This is why I need your help. My men have searched the surface of this city, but you know its bowels–its underworld. Can you find her for me?"

"I…I will certainly try my best." Akio folded his arms. "Of course any details or suspicions you may have would greatly aid in the search."

"Such as?"

"Well, for instance…" Akio lowered his eyes.

Zuko wondered if the timidity was genuine. "Go on."

"If she was kidnapped or ran away willingly." Zuko's eyes grew stern. "I only ask because there has been much talk recently. Your majesty doubtlessly hears all the rumors concerning the Fire Lady's absence from court or any public appearance for that matter, and a wise man does not immediately cast aside rumors as vicious lies."

"Yes, the rumors are true." said Zuko, without emotion. "Our relationship has….soured."

"That may complicate things. She is still a citizen of the Southern Water Tribe and under the terms of the peace treaty–"

"I know the terms!" Zuko forced the anger back down. "I was there when they were written."

"Then your majesty must know that as soon as she leaves Fire Nation territory we have no power over her. And considering she fled last night, she may have easily taken a ship and left our waters before the dawn."

"No, I'm certain she hasn't left yet." Zuko smiled to himself. "I ordered that every ship entering or leaving the capital be thoroughly searched by my troops. This order has been in effect since yesterday. She's still in the city."

Akio nodded his head, "That should simplify things. I'll have my men start searching at once. Though, to be honest your majesty, I find it difficult to believe that one person, even a waterbender as powerful as Katara could have slipped past your guards unnoticed."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, she probably had outside help."

Zuko narrowed his eyes, "I take it you have someone in mind?"

Akio lifted his gaze, "It would have to be someone she could trust. Someone she could rely on. Perhaps an…old friend?" Zuko eyes widened.

Aang! It had to be him. Of course. For an airbender it would be nothing to fly past his guards and sneak her out.

Zuko felt the veins in his forehead bulging. So that's why he showed up now, out of the blue. To steal his wife from him. He had never given up on Katara and doubtlessly that traitorous whore would do anything to escape. But no one plays the Fire Lord for a fool. Avatar or not. They would both pay dearly for this.

Seeing the rage taking hold of the Fire Lord, Akio's lips curled into a smile.


	9. Life and Death

"On this 4th week of Fall we gather to honor an ancient tradition." said the Administrator, as lighthearted music played in the background. "The festival of the Evening Stars."

A loud cheer erupted from the gathered crowd. All the way up and down the Capital's main street thousands of people had come to take part in the festivities. Decorations swung from every house, colorful lanterns crisscrossed across the rooftops, musicians played at every corner, and stalls were setup along the sidewalks, providing colorful masks and tasty snacks.

"This festival, as many of you know, is one of the oldest and most cherished in the Fire Nation. It celebrates something incredibly special: true love. For those of you who are strangers to our land, worry not, I shall tell you the legend behind it all."

Some in the crowd sighed. They had heard this story dozens of times since they were children. And what's more, this Administrator seemed to take particular delight in the art of thespianism, for every time he told the story it was with the same gravity and sincerity of emotion as the last.

"It all began with the sky. Thousands of years ago, before mankind ruled the land, the great spirits roamed the world and called it home. Among the greatest of these spirits was Sora, spirit of the sky. He was powerful, wise, a good leader, and among all things he loved his daughter Torimi the most. Because of his great love for her, he charged his daughter with the sacred duty of tending to his flock of birds. These were no ordinary birds, mind you. Each bird's feathers glowed with such force and brilliance that those on the ground came to call them stars. But despite their dazzling beauty, Torimi soon grew sad. For, because of her duty, she could never see the rest of the world."

The musicians began to play a sadder melody and someone in the crowd muttered. "Oh brother."

"Seeing his daughter's sadness, Sora allowed her one day to visit the world below. When she swooped down onto the land she saw a young man working on a ship near the shore. He seemed strange to her, for unlike the spirits his skin was white, his hair dark, and his eyes golden. When she asked him what he was doing, he told her he was trying to sail over the horizon. 'But why would you leave this place, your home?' She asked. 'Because I long to have a land of my own.' he replied. 'What for?' she asked. 'So that I can be free.' he replied."

"As they got to know each other he told her his name was Itoh and that he was a mortal. He had been a subject to the spirit of his land since he was a child and he could bear it no longer. For the rest of the day they talked and laughed as he built his ship, and slowly but surely they began to fall in love. But as the sun set over the horizon she realized she had to go. 'Why are you leaving?' he asked. 'I was given only one day to see the world, afterwards I must return to the sky, my father.' she replied with sadness. 'Come with me.' said the young man, 'We can have a land of our own, and be free to do what we will.' And so, defying her father's orders, she left with the man and set sail over the horizon."

A sudden blast of dramatic music startled the few foreigners in the crowd. The capital's citizens just stood there nonplussed.

"It did not take Sora long to learn of his daughter's treachery. Itoh and Torimi had sailed over the horizon and using her father's stars Torimi found them a new home, here on this very island! But their happiness was shortlived for her father came down and took her back into the heavens, separating the lovers forever. Torimi was devastated and as the months passed she grew despondent, neglecting the stars and letting them roam as they would. Seeing his daughter's anguish, Sora at last gave in. He promised the lovers that they could meet on the first day of the fourth week of fall, if Torimi would work hard and tend to the stars for the rest of the year. Overjoyed, the two lovers were reunited and spent the whole day together in happiness. But at the end of the day, Torimi returned to her father to tend to the stars for another year. In time Torimi and Itoh had children and their descendants became the free men and women of our glorious Nation."

Triumphant music flared in the background. Smiling, the Administrator added. "Legend has it that when the sun sets on this day, the two lovers can be seen embracing, just over the horizon." A few of the women in the crowd awed.

"Enjoy the festivities and be sure to stick around for the fireworks once the sun has set. Who knows, maybe you'll meet your own very own Torimi or Itoh!"

The sounds of the festival continued while far away the Administrator's vehicle headed for his home in the city center. It had been a long day, and a long week, and a long month. The festival had taken tons of planning and organizing and it only added to his already exhaustive schedule. Sometimes he missed the army, back then everything seemed so much simpler. But he knew that he'd done the right thing by leaving, especially after all that had happened.

The driver pulled up to his house and he climbed out of the back seat. It was amazing how much had changed in so little time. This vehicle was the latest self-propelled carriage made for civilian use, and it was a great improvement over its predecessor–which come to think of it was already astounding. He had pulled a lot of strings to get it, and it was worth every copper piece.

Yet, despite all the changes, a lot had remained the same. In the Earth Kingdom the technological revolution had barely taken hold and in the Water Tribes it was as if it had never happened. It amazed him how people could stand in the way of progress.

Well if some preferred to live like savages it was no business of his.

As he walked to the lobby of his building he noticed a group of men approaching. The ones in front were dressed in dark blue formal robes with insignia pins that bore the character "Tsukino". Seeing the man walking behind them he blanched.

"Well well well, if it isn't my good friend Administrator Noro." said the man with a smile. It was Boss Ryota, Head of the Tsukino Family of the Murakami Clan. "I enjoyed your story at the festival, very moving."

"R-Ryota, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Now now, is that any way to talk to your old army pal?" Ryota motioned for his men to give them some space. "How have you been all these years?"

"Very busy, now if you don't mind."

"Come now, you can't spare a few minutes for an old friend?" Though he said it kindly Noro sensed the growing hostility.

"Fine, make it brief."

"You know I never understood why you left the army."

Noro scowled, "You know perfectly well why."

"Please." Ryota shook his head. "This is exactly what the Fire Nation doesn't need, bleeding hearts. It was war, what happened–"

"Enough!" Noro narrowed his eyes. "What is it you want, Ryota? Money? I can tell you right now I don't take kindly to extortionists."

"Is that what you think I am?"

"Isn't it?"

Ryota lowered his eyes, "After the war was over there was no need for us soldiers. I chose this life and you chose yours. In the end how different are we?"

"Vastly." said Noro icily.

"You think you're better than me?" Ryota clenched his fists, his men coming closer. Noro felt their killing intent and for a second he thought he was dead.

"Something wrong, sir?" Four Fire Nation guards had come out of the building and locked eyes with the Tsukino men.

"It's fine." Noro replied, his heart skipping a beat. "You were just leaving, weren't you, Ryota?"

Ryota smirked and called off his men. As a passing remark he added, "I have a long memory, don't think I'll forget this, Mr. Butcher." Before disappearing down the street.

Wiping the cold sweat off his forehead, Noro shakily opened the door to his rooms. It was dark and cold inside and he fumbled along before finally finding and lighting the lamp. Sitting heavily on the couch, he tried to force his mind to be calm, but to no avail. Just what the hell was Ryota doing here?

He had tried his best to hide his past. Tried to be a kind and effective administrator. Why now? Why now of all times had that bastard resurfaced? Noro had heard rumors that Ryota had joined the Murakami, but he still couldn't believe it. For a former officer to be consorting with criminals, that was the lowest of the low. Maybe Ryota had fallen on hard times? With the war over, there were too many soldiers and not enough jobs.

Rubbing his temples wearily, he tried once more to put up his mental barriers. To hide away that day he could never forget–never live down. It was futile, but at least for a little while he could give his mind some peace. As his heartbeat lessened and his mind relaxed he began to sense that he was not alone in the room. He was being watched.

The light from the lamp stretched only a few feet in front of him, leaving the back of the room cloaked in darkness. He tried to peer through the shadows–seeing nothing. Then his eyes locked on the silhouette of a person. Noro's heart stopped in his chest and he felt his limbs grow numb. He wanted to scream but no sound came out. Slowly, like in a dream, the silhouette moved towards him. Every footstep an earthquake, every motion a whirlwind.

As the light from the lamp finally fell on its face, Noro's nails dug deep into his palms until they bled.

It was dressed head to toe in black. Where there should have been a face there was a cold blue mask, fanged and grinning. Noro began to gather himself, intent on screaming for help, but at that moment the figure extended its arm and dropped four severed heads at his feet. In horror he recognized the faces of his guards.

Noro thought about begging, bribing, even fighting, but once more his body was paralyzed. As the masked figure drew and raised its broadswords, he could only pray for forgiveness.

* * *

The spacious vehicle turned smoothly on the corner of the main street that snaked its way through the capital. Behind it, far away now, the Royal Dragon Hotel towered over the surrounding buildings. To the right, the grandiose palace of the Fire Lord loomed like an eternal shadow over the city. The roads leading up to and around the palace were heavily guarded by Royal Procession guards, barring all entry.

Aang slowly shifted his gaze away from the city and to the sky. It was past noon now and he was running late.

Earlier that day he had accidentally run into Harumi–the girl who had first shown him to his rooms. A few words turned into a conversation and then drinks during her break. He had been so occupied with her that he forgot about his meeting with Lord Akio altogether. But then one of Akio's servants showed up and led him outside where a car was waiting.

In spite of his initial appreciation of Akio's gifts, Aang couldn't help but feel uneasy. There was definitely something unusual going on. Even as the Avatar, Aang wasn't used to being that well received–least of all by a stranger.

Then there was the man himself. Automobiles were an extreme rarity, even in the United Republic of Nations which was their sole manufacturer. A luxury reserved primarily for diplomats and politicians. And yet here was one, brand new, and from the looks of it custom made.

Then there was Akio's hotel, a true marvel. The technologies it incorporated were still largely in the developmental stage and yet they had all been put together in seemingly perfect harmony. Never mind the fact that his building had been finished in a mere three years whereas in Republic City, even with the labor forces of three nations working side by side, after five years the buildings there were barely halfway done.

Just who exactly is this Lord Akio?

The car came to a stop at a large stately palace. It was imperial in appearance, rich and commanding, but not as imposing as the Royal Palace. The structure was only 4 stories tall and relatively flat but elaborately designed. Although Aang could tell that the architecture was from before Sozin's time, it had been so well maintained that it looked as if it were built yesterday.

As the gates opened he noticed they bore an iron insignia with the character "Murakami" intricately inscribed.

The name was unfamiliar to him, but then he had never been particularly knowledgeable in Fire Nation affairs. That was Zuko's job.

As soon as he entered the palace, servants politely ushered him into a lavish waiting room to await Lord Akio. He didn't wait long.

"Avatar Aang." Akio smiled, his eyes blank as always, "I trust you have enjoyed your stay at the capital thus far."

"I have." Aang replied. "Thank you very much for your hospitality."

"Not at all." Akio motioned towards the main hall. "This way, if you please."

Aang followed him into the hall and sat beside him at the giant table that took up most of the room. In a corner sitting on a mat he recognized the woman that was with Akio at the palace.

"Ume, my assistant." said Akio, noticing his gaze.

"Yes, I believe I met her briefly in the Fire Lord's palace." Aang tried to gauge the man before him. What was his reason for bringing him here?

Despite his best efforts he couldn't read anything from his eyes. Or those of the woman.

"Ume, you may leave us." said Akio, "Tell the servants not to disturb us."

"As you wish, my lord."

Aang's eyes followed her as she left, pausing at a large tapestry that hung on the wall above Akio. On it was a single verse.

"My family motto." said Akio, as if reading his thoughts. "'Conquer yourself and you'll conquer the rest'."

"An interesting concept." said Aang, still on guard.

"And quite true, I believe." Akio saw his unease and laughed in his mind. So even the Avatar can be frightened.

Not that it surprised him much. He was human after all. Put aside his mastery of the four elements and the spirit world and he was a man like any other. And like every man he had his frailties.

"Surely you would agree with it." continued Akio. "A man who has truly mastered himself is nigh unstoppable."

"But what if his opponent is stronger?" Aang replied, his worry replaced with calm.

Akio smiled, "Strength and power are not always one and the same."

Aang furrowed his brows, "Not that I don't enjoy discussing semantics, in fact as Avatar it's one of my duties, but I believe you had something you wished to talk to me about."

Akio nodded his head, "Yes, of course. Forgive my meandering. There are in fact three matters I wish to discuss with you."

"I'm listening."

"The first is about Republic City." Akio's eyes matched his and for the first time Aang felt the force behind his gaze. "I understand that you are one of its main officials and administrators."

"I am." Aang wondered where he was going with this.

"My associates and I see a great potential for modernization as well as profit. There are several ideas we wish to see implemented in its economy and infrastructure and perhaps even its government."

Aang stroked his chin, "Well whatever they may be you can always bring them before the Fire Nation's officials there, as well as before the Fire Lord himself."

"I could. But I'd prefer that you affect these changes personally." Akio replied, his gaze unwavering.

"Can I ask why?"

"Well," Akio leaned back in his chair, "The Fire Nation's bureaucracy is tedious and notoriously inefficient and as to the Fire Lord…well I suspect you know how he thinks."

"Unfortunately." muttered Aang. The memory of the failed Harmony Restoration Movement still plagued his memory.

Immediately following the end of the war, Earth King Kuei had been anxious to rid the Earth Kingdom of the occupying forces as well as the Fire Nation's colonies. After much arguing, Zuko had agreed and everything had proceeded smoothly. Up until some of the colonists refused to leave. Zuko immediately claimed to be protecting his citizens and mobilized the Fire Nation armies once more. The Earth King responded in kind and a new war was nearly started. Only Aang's timely intervention had averted the disaster and with help from his friends and some careful political maneuvering a solution was devised in the form of the United Republic of Nations. A separate country, ruled by a council consisting of members from each of the four nations.

Although the crisis had been averted, Aang suspected that this would not be the end of it. Zuko had been only too willing to start a war just to hold on to the Fire Nation's possessions. The peace terms favored him since he still exercised a great deal of control over the former colonies. One day soon he would try to reclaim them and start a new era of conquest like his predecessors. Until then he would do everything he could to keep the United Republic weak and vulnerable. He was too much like Ozai. Deep down Aang knew he wanted things back to the way they were. With the Fire Nation on top. His only real quarrel had been with his father. And now…

"Very well." said Aang. "I will take your suggestions under consideration. Have them delivered in detail to my office in Republic City."

"Thank you, Avatar Aang." Akio bowed his head.

"What else?"

"The second matter I believe is more important to you personally." Akio leaned forward. "The restoration of the Air Nomads."

Aang's eyes widened, "How? My people have been gone for almost a century."

"Well, in time, I hope there will be more Airbenders." Akio replied, his lips curling. "But in the meantime we can work to preserve their culture and way of life. There are a good number of people who live near the old Air Temples and many of them still remember the Air Nomad ways. There are also the nonbending descendants of your people who have only recently begun to come out of hiding."

Aang's mind raced with the possibilities and seeing that his ideas were taking root, Akio decided to press onward.

"They can all of them find a home in Republic City. It was created to be a city of all four nations, isn't it about time there were Air Nomads living there?"

"I…I will certainly think on it." Aang forced his mind to be calm, but it was still overwhelming. His nation and people restored at last. The Air Nomads a thriving civilization once more.

"What you imply could have serious ramifications." he said shakily. "I will need time to think it over."

"Of course." said Akio, though in his mind he knew Aang had swallowed the hook to the gills.

"And the third matter?" asked Aang when his thoughts had quieted.

Akio glanced at the table. It was time to make a decision. This was the final gear to set in motion. It was amazing how the last few days had forced him to radically alter his plans. He had thought long and hard on the matter and it was decided. With the Avatar here, it was now or never.

As he had surmised upon first meeting Zuko: if the Fire Lord would not work with him he must be removed–permanently. And up until now he had honestly thought, and hoped, that he _would_ work with him, to build a better and stronger nation.

Zuko was not a bad man. Akio had seen that from the start. His true intentions had always been pure. Yet somewhere along the way, like all those before him, he had lost himself sitting on that throne. If there was one irrefutable truth, it was that power corrupts. Not even Zuko–or Akio himself–were an exception to that rule.

For the sake of business, a few character flaws could be overlooked, but now the Fire Lord had become a liability.

After Zuko's rage at Katara and Aang's "supposed" betrayal had subsided he turned his anger on Akio. As he feared it had not taken long for his failures to reach the Fire Lord's ears. His measures to have every ship checked upon entering or leaving the capital was not merely a method of finding Katara–it was also Akio's punishment. Dozens of his shipments had been seized before he had gotten word out to his bosses, and combined with his losses in the Earth Kingdom and the United Republic he was headed towards disaster.

What's more, on the docks he had seen in Zuko's eyes that this was not the end of it. Akio had known the Fire Lord's resentment of the Murakami Clan but it was there that he realized that now he was the enemy. And like all the Fire Lord's enemies he would soon be dead–or rotting in a dungeon.

Fortunately, the axe would not fall too soon. Not while he needed him to find Katara. All the more reason to strike now while he still had a chance.

Sorry your majesty, thought Akio without contempt, you left me no other choice.

He looked at Aang, his expression grave.

"It's about Katara." said Akio painfully, "I'm afraid I have unsettling news."


	10. What We've Become

It was late in the evening. The sun had begun to set and the sounds of the festival were growing more mellow by the hour. By now most of the crowd had gone to the docks to bid farewell to the last rays of sunshine and to eagerly await the fireworks. The main street was practically empty where only an hour ago it had been packed. Although the streets above had grown quiet, in the bowels of the capital the underworld teemed with life.

"So, Boss Loon is in charge of the…" Shen hesitated, grasping for an answer. It quickly came to him. "…the Harada Family."

"Yes, very good." Ichiro nodded. He was sitting comfortably at a desk in his predecessor's headquarters. It was an older building located in the center of the capital's Harbor City. The interior was shabby, sparsely furnished, the paint on the walls peeling. All in all it was a mess–like the organization that owned it.

The Shiraga Family had always been a straggler in the Murakami Clan. Originally a third tier organization under the Kamida Family–Ichiro's former group–it had grown both in size and importance as the Murakami's control over the capital increased. Eventually it had become a separate family and was given control over the harbor area. It was only because of leaders like Arata that it had remained in last place.

That is, until now, thought Ichiro.

The Harbor City was the ideal breeding ground for crime. Ships from all nations, inbound from all corners of the globe stopped here. Sometimes for trade, sometimes for pleasure, and sometimes for illicit transactions. Outside the crater the law was far more lax. The regular guards and administrators all bribed and all perfectly content to let bygones be bygones. The capital's underworld was an intricate web and the Harbor City was at its center. The laws that were lax outside the crater were practically nonexistent here. Even things that were forbidden in most of the world were all perfectly legal within its borders.

Here you could find anything. Mercenaries, assassins, slaves, even common street whores–though only the lowliest dregs would have them when there were so many pleasure houses to choose from.

In the main part of the capital things were much trickier, the prices much higher, and the danger far greater. The Fire Lord's Royal Procession was practically incorruptible and fanatically loyal. Sometimes Ichiro wondered how the Murakami survived in such a dangerous place. It had to have been through the strength and wisdom of its leaders.

Leaders like me, he thought. At last he had the chance for greatness. If the Shiraga Family could tighten its grip on the Harbor City and seize control of all its rackets, it would possess power second to none.

Except for Lord Akio, Ichiro corrected himself, and surely when he realized how much Ichiro had accomplished, he would gladly make him lieutenant. Then at last he would have proved his father wrong. Him and all the others who had belittled him. He'd show them that you didn't have to be a bender to make it big.

"Sweet Sozin." swore Shen, bringing Ichiro out of his musings. "I don't know how your Lord Akio can manage such an organization. Just remembering everyone's name would be a challenge."

"It's not that complicated." Ichiro laughed. "Pretty soon you'll know the Murakami inside and out."

Shen scoffed, "Yeah, not soon enough."

"Shall we review?"

"Alright." Shen took a seat on a small table opposite Ichiro's desk. "So the Murakami Clan is the main organization. It's made up of several second tier groups or 'Families'. These Families are each led by a boss who is assisted by his underboss. Each Family is then broken down further into smaller groups each headed by a group leader or captain. And then there's the Lieutenant."

"Right, which the Murakami doesn't currently have." added Ichiro.

"Right. And the Lieutenant overseas the families and reports back to Lord Akio who does…who does whatever men as powerful as him do." Shen shrugged. "Such a complicated structure. Do all criminal groups have one like this?"

"More or less." said Ichiro, fiddling with an empty glass. "I'm sure Tempest Kota's is more centralized, and small organizations like the Dragon Claw group don't bother with families, but the framework is essentially the same."

"Nuts." muttered Shen.

There was a knock at the door. Shen turned around as Ichiro said, "Come in."

A young man in his twenties bowed his head politely. He was Ichiro's new underboss. Smart, efficient, and a skilled firebender with powerful connections. His uncle was Boss Ryota of the Tsukino Family and he had pledged to support his favorite nephew and his family.

"What is it, Sachio?" asked Ichiro.

"Sir, the new recruits have arrived and are waiting for you downstairs."

"Excellent." Ichiro rose from his chair. "I trust they can be counted on?"

"I'm confident in their abilities." Sachio glanced at Shen. "But as to their loyalty…"

Seeing his glance Ichiro interrupted, "Shen's loyalty is not in question."

"Of course, sir." Sachio nodded politely. "As I was saying, the recruits are mostly former army and navy, practically no experience in our line of work. A few local thugs as well. To sum it up, not that impressive."

"Sounds like a bunch of unreliables to me." said Shen, smirking at Sachio's now open disdain.

"I wish we had the luxury of having hundreds of loyal, proven assets." said Ichiro, picking up his empty glass as he walked over to the poorly stocked liquor cabinet. He selected a bottle of clear rice wine and poured a decent amount. "Unfortunately, my predecessor left the Shiraga Family practically in ruins. The few men we have left are spread thin and we need them just to maintain our hold in the area."

Shen watched him down the glass, "What about Boss Ryota? I thought he was going to help."

Sachio scowled, "My uncle has loaned us some of his men and money. However, he has his own family to run. He can't do everything for us."

"He's right. In this business it's every boss for himself. The weak don't get a second chance." Ichiro put down his glass. "Come, let's go see what Sachio has brought us."

The recruits were exactly as Sachio had described them–not that impressive. Ichiro quickly deduced which were army and which were navy–the rest stood out like a bleeding wound. All in all, only a small number looked useful. In truth Ichiro was disappointed, he knew that the City had much more to offer.

But I suppose the Shiraga Family has become somewhat of a stale joke here, he thought. Of course no one would want to join us. No matter, soon they will come by the thousands.

Calling up the few he had deemed useful, he had Sachio dismiss the rest. He assessed them quickly, one on one. Determining their skills, their experience, and their weaknesses. A few more were dismissed before he finally had his crew.

"Now then," he began, looking at them and seeing their strong eyes staring right back. "I must congratulate you on your acceptance into the Shiraga Family. Welcome. However, before you can become full fledged members I–"

"Forgive me if I'm interrupting." The recruits all jumped aside, forming a semi circle around a woman who seemed to have appeared out of thin air. She was of medium height, slender, a brown cloak around her shoulders, and the dark red tattoos of a Yu Yan Archer on her face.

Shen's eyes widened, his hand on his knife, "How the fu–"

"I heard you were recruiting new members." she went on, her eyes going from man to man, amused by their startled expressions.

Ichiro fought the momentary shock off his face, "Yes, we are. But we just–how did you do that?"

"Secret of the trade." She threw off her cloak, revealing her bow and arrows. "I want in."

"You certainly look the part." said one of the recruits, a thickset man with a coarse beard. "But I've got tattoos too lady and that don't mean nothing."

Before anyone had time to react, four arrows had pinned both his arms by their sleeves to the wall. A fifth arrow was on her bowstring and aimed at his head. Some of the recruits began to reach for their weapons.

"Enough!" commanded Ichiro, watching her loosen the string and return the arrow to its quiver. Her victim tearing himself from the wall, badly shaken. "I'll admit I'm impressed. You're in, for now."

He felt his heart pounding in his chest but pretended to be calm. His voice steady as he spoke, "As I was saying before you can become full fledged members of the Shiraga Family –"

The recruits warily turned around to face him as she took her place among the crowd. Shen continued to watch her carefully from the corner of his eye. Unnerved by the deadliness.

"–I have a little assignment for you." Ichiro smiled to himself. "You're going to borrow one of Fire Lord Zuko's latest warships."

Everyone in the room was shocked, even Sachio. "Begging your pardon, sir," he began.

"That's insane." Shen overrode him. "Those warships have hundreds of men. Not to mention the marines that will be guarding them. Then there's the harbor patrol, we'd never get away with it."

The recruits murmured in agreement.

"Everybody relax." said Ichiro, his eyes willing them to be calm. "The ships are still undergoing sea trials. As such they carry less than half of their usual crew. As to the harbor patrol, Boss Ryota has arranged a few of their ships to be delayed and the guards at the Gates of Azulon will be given a day off. You'll have no trouble slipping out of the capital."

"And then what?" asked Sachio, overwhelmed.

Ichiro quickly described the plan and divided the tasks among the recruits. At the end he added, "Once you've taken the ship you'll stow it at a nearby island just outside the capital. A merchant ship will be waiting there to take you back."

"And what if things don't go as planned?" asked Shen.

"You'll be given two signal flares, one green and one blue. If everything goes well, use the green one. If not, use the blue. We'll have a few Murakami Clan ships posted nearby for any eventuality. Any other questions?"

* * *

"Any news on my wife?" asked Zuko, saying the last word as a curse.

The uniformed officer shifted uncomfortably, "No, your majesty. But rest assured I have all my men s–"

"I'm not interested in your excuses, General. I want her found." said Zuko, his voice growing dangerous.

"I'm trying my best, your majesty. It's simply beyond my power."

Zuko's eyes narrowed, the flames around his throne flickering menacingly, "Beyond your power?"

Realizing his folly a moment too late, the General fumbled for a way out–to no avail.

"I see." continued Zuko, his voice deliberately calm. "Then maybe I've misjudged you. Obviously, you're ill suited to the task of leading my Royal Procession. Perhaps a year in the factories will strengthen your resolve."

"Your majesty, please forgive me!" Two guards grabbed him and began to march him out. "Your majesty! Your majesty!"

At that moment the doors to the throne room flew open and smashed into the walls. A powerful wind blasted into the chamber sending everyone sprawling. All the fires were snuffed out simultaneously, leaving only dim lamps to illuminate the room.

Zuko picked himself off the ground and strained his eyes, trying to peer through the haze. As the dust finally settled, he saw the Avatar standing in the doorway. For a moment he was afraid. Then Katara's betrayal rushed into his mind and he felt only hatred.

"Everyone out." Zuko commanded, his eyes fixed on Aang. "Now!"

The servants and chamberlain scurried away, along with the General who silently thanked the spirits for their intervention. Zuko's guards hesitated, but hearing the finality in his voice they skulked out as well.

"You…"Aang struggled for words, every ounce of his strength fighting the Avatar State. Every part of him wanting to unleash it. "You piece of shit." The flames around Zuko flared back to life.

"You have some nerve, barging into my throne room like this." He said icily.

"How could you do it, Zuko?" Aang looked him in the eyes, his own a mixture of anger and sadness, "She loved you."

"Well, you know firsthand how her love comes and goes." Zuko smiled mirthlessly. "And yet you keep coming back, like a moth to the flame. How could _you_?"

Aang gritted his teeth. It would be so easy to let go now and be done with it. To rid the world of this bastard once and for all. He could end it before it began. It was clear to him now more than ever that Zuko would never be the Fire Lord they had all prayed he would be. He was merely biding his time, waiting for the opportunity to present itself. The world still hadn't recovered from the war and it would be only too easy to retake that which was lost. Thank the spirits Iroh hadn't lived to see this.

Hating Aang's composure, Zuko decided to prod him further. "You even dared to steal her from me. Just so you could be the hero and she'd _love_ you again. You're pathetic."

Aang's eyebrows furrowed, "What are you–"

"Well if you want her so badly you can have her." The flames around the throne hissed. "I just want my child, I don't care about that whore. Once it's born she can go die for all I care."

"You fucking bastard!" Aang screamed. The ground beneath the palace shook violently as his tattoos and eyes began to glow. Zuko readied himself for the attack, his muscles tense, his senses alert. But all at once Aang regained control. The tremor died away as his eyes returned to normal.

Aang's breathing was heavily now, his forehead covered in sweat. Every fiber of his being longing for vengeance. Aang knew he couldn't maintain control much longer. He had to leave at once.

Through his teeth he hissed, "If you…ever come near her again. I will end you."

"Why wait?" asked Zuko haughtily, the flames towering around him. "Let's settle this once and for all."

"Don't do this, Zuko." said Aang, his voice strange. "Don't challenge me, it will only end badly."

Zuko seethed as the Avatar turned his back on him and added, "It's over."

The inferno burst from Zuko's hands, blasting through the throne room, incinerating the chamber and engulfing Aang in its flames. Zuko smiled for a moment, but as the smoke cleared his eyes narrowed.

He saw the attack before it came and narrowly avoided the air blast as Aang emerged from the ground behind him. Zuko fired a blast from his left hand, but Aang easily brushed aside the flames. He fired two more fire blasts both of which Aang parried smoothly.

Zuko smirked, he had taught the Avatar well, who would have guessed it would come back to bite him. Once more he cursed his inability to lightning bend.

Aang sliced horizontally with his arm and Zuko barely had time to duck as the air swipe decimated the wall behind him. Before he had time to recover, Aang followed up with a combo of Fire jabs which Zuko blocked masterfully. He quickly resumed his own offensive, unleashing a powerful stream of fire which Aang bended aside with difficulty, leaving himself exposed. Zuko darted in close, landing a punch to the Avatar's ribcage, then a fire blast to his face–Aang caught his arm, the flames missing. In one motion he twisted Zuko around and tripped him. The Fire Lord quickly regained his feet before he had a chance to follow up.

Now they circled eachother, watching carefully, waiting for an opening to–Aang earthbent the ground out from under him. Quickly recovering, Zuko rolled out of the way as a boulder pulverized the floor where he had lain. He lept to his feet, dodging air blast after air blast, blasting through the hail of stones, getting close and delivering a fire sweep to Aang's legs.

Aang levitated out of danger and blasted Zuko in the face with his own fire. The Fire Lord avoided it narrowly, his hair getting singed. Aang fired a concussive fireblast at his feet hoping to knock him off balance, but Zuko quickly made a shield of fire that absorbed the explosion.

Aang scowled, despite Zuko's many shortcomings he was an excellent firebender. It was time to change tactics. Aang tore out one of the stone pillars in the throne room and sent it hurtling at the Fire Lord. Zuko jetted into the air with his flames and flew over it. Seeing an opening, he kicked a fireblast with his foot only to have Aang suddenly redirect it right back at him.

This time the fire hit his body, the searing pain pure agony. He cried out against his will as he hurtled to the ground–his mind going back to the agni kai with his father.

He had lain prostrate on the ground, begging for mercy, but his father had continued on, unmoved. His voice shouted in his mind.

"_You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher!"_ The fire shot out of Ozai's hand and consumed him whole. Scarring him forever.

Zuko screamed as he hit the ground, now in the present. Enraged he made a sword of fire in his hand and swung it at Aang's head. The airbender easily avoided it. As the fire passed under his feet, Aang earthbent another pillar and sent part of it crashing down on Zuko's arm.

This time the pain was different, crushing and numbing. This time Zuko didn't scream, his lungs were out of air and his vision grew dark. With his strength fading, Zuko waited for Aang to deliver the final blow.

As he faded out of consciousness, he saw Aang's eyes glowing dangerously.

* * *

A whirlwind tore through the palace, obliterating the walls and decimating the structure. All throughout the capital, people stopped and watched the flying debris in horror. The sound of the explosion drowned out the noise of the fireworks that now crackled bright red in the night sky. A green flare flew amongst them, unnoticed.


	11. Trapped

It was a calm autumn morning. The sky was clear but for a few wispy clouds and the air was cool and crisp. A gentle breeze blew through the garden and scattered the dried leaves that lay there. As the leaves glided through the air the wind began to grow stronger, quickly picking up speed, whistling ominously now. Then just as suddenly it died down.

Now it was silent once more. The only sound was that of running water from an elegant bamboo fountain in the center of the garden. Gently it bobbed down then sprang back up to be filled again, making a soft wooden sound. The sound of tranquility. For Katara it didn't feel like a prison and yet it definitely was.

She had been here for over a week now. A "guest" of Lord Akio. Even though she was a prisoner they had treated her wonderfully. The servants even more attentive than those in the Royal Palace. The few times she had spoken with Akio he too had been the essence of kindness. And yet none of this served to allay her growing concern.

Of course she had thought of escaping. The moment she had been ushered into his vehicle she had thought of fighting her way out. But what then? Katara knew that she could never stay hidden in the city–the Fire Lord had too many eyes and ears. Fleeing the capital was impossible as well. She had no money and Zuko probably had the entire navy on the lookout. No matter how she looked at it, she was trapped. So why not be trapped in comfort?

Anything's better than being back in _his_ palace, she thought, her stomach lurching suddenly. For a moment she thought she would be sick, but the feeling soon passed. No, she would never go back there. Never. Not alive.

A soft rustling came from behind, "I thought I might find you here." A young woman came up beside her. "You come here every morning."

Katara's unease left her, "It reminds me of the gardens back at the palace. I used to watch the sun rise there every day. It was beautiful. Especially in the summer when the Fire Lilies were in bloom. The way the morning light hit their glistening petals made it look like an ocean of fire. We would–" She trailed off.

"What? What would you do?"

"It's nothing." Katara had been about to say that she and Zuko used to spend the whole day in the gardens admiring their beauty and basking in eachother's love. That was back when they had first gotten married. Now, it seemed like a memory from another life.

"I'm sorry." said the woman, noticing her sadness. "I didn't meant to pry."

"That's alright." Katara cast the thought aside, no need to dwell on the past. She saw the woman's concern and reassured her. "Really, I'm fine."

Her name was Manami, she was Akio's youngest wife. Since Katara's arrival at his palace she had been her sole companion and gradually Katara had opened up to her. Of course she didn't tell her everything. Despite her friendliness, Katara knew she was enemy. Even so, it was nice to have someone to talk to.

"Still, I shouldn't have been so careless." said Manami, then quickly changing the subject. "How are you feeling today?"

"Good. I felt a little nauseous earlier, but I'm fine now."

"That's good, the first few months can be very difficult. I was constantly sick. Fortunately, my husband hired an army of physicians and I got better." Manami smiled lightly, her eyes suddenly serious. "It was worth it though. I love my Takeo more than anything and I'd go through much worse for his sake."

"I'd do the same for my child." Katara agreed and at that moment they felt they could trust eachother completely. Manami began to say something but stopped as a servant rushed in.

The servant bowed to Manami, "Forgive me, my lady, but my lord requests your presence in the main chamber."

"I'll be there in a moment." The Servant scurried off. Manami watched her disappear down the corridor before turning to Katara and leaning in close. "I know you're held here against your will." Manami whispered. "I'll find a way to get you out of the capital." Katara began to reply, but she put a finger to her lips and quietly made her way back into the palace.

A few hours passed and still Katara remained in the gardens, her mind working out the possibilities. If she could escape the palace, where would she go? To the South Pole? Ba Sing Se? Republic City? Where would she stay?

She had gone through all her options, even made contingencies, and yet she knew that for now it was all just speculation. She was still trapped and Manami's promise did not reassure her. The thought of Su Qi's treachery put her on guard. It would be better to find her own way out. Who knows how far Zuko's reach extends. At least in these walls she was safe from him.

"Planning an escape?" the voice came out of nowhere, startling her. She spun around behind her, looking for its source. For a moment her heart stopped and she thought it was Zuko, but she quickly realized her mistake. Relief washed over her.

"Not that I could blame you." Ichiro continued, smiling. "It must be frustrating, exchanging one prison for another."

There was undoubtedly a resemblance. He had the same look in his eyes, the same posture, the wry smile, the confidence. His face, however, was blemishless and his hair was a shade lighter.

"Who are you?" she asked nervously.

"An associate of your gracious host. My name's Ichiro." He bowed. "At your service, your majesty."

Katara watched him carefully, comforted by the nearby water.

"Lovely garden, no?" he came closer and smirked. "You can stop thinking about waterbending, I'm not going to hurt you."

"I wasn't–" Katara stopped. "How did you know?"

"Well for one thing you tensed and then your gaze kept darting back and forth to the fountain." Ichiro's eyes caught her own. "I'm a nonbender you see. I've learned to notice these things."

"Quite a talent."

"I try." he looked at the fountain. "Lord Akio certainly knows how to live. I've never been in his garden before." Turning back to her he added. "The view is quite breathtaking."

She felt even more uneasy, "Why are you here?"

"Business," Ichiro replied nonchalantly. She noticed his eyes wandering over her. "Of course I couldn't resist admiring your beauty. You truly are a Fire Lady, no matter what they say. " In spite of everything, Katara felt herself warmed by the complement. She had long forgotten what it was like to be desired–or loved.

"Thank you." said Katara, smiling for the first time since she had been brought here.

"Your smile is all the thanks I need." Ichiro bowed once more. "Take care, your majesty."

As he walked away, Katara saw the resemblance once more and only now did it make sense to her. He was the man Zuko used to be.

* * *

Akio sat patiently at the large conference table. The room was empty now, except for his assistant Ume. Everyone else had left.

The meeting had been productive, yet not as productive as he had hoped. Up until now the Murakami Clan had managed to stay in the fight against Tempest Kota and had inflicted some serious damage. However, Kota had his share of victories too. And, if rumors were true, he was trying to strike a deal with the Maelstrom Pirates to provide him with ships. If he got his way the results would be disastrous, maybe even fatal to the Murakami.

So far the lack of a fleet had kept Kota from truly muscling in on their territory. In truth he had the advantage on land. His organization was far larger in terms of manpower–inferior in terms of everything else. Size was their only real asset.

Or so Akio had thought. In the past week, two of his shipments had been captured. Not by Zuko's ever present patrols, which were all safely in his pocket, but by Kota. Impossible for him to have known about them. The shipments were vital and as such Akio had kept them highly secret. It was clear now that they had a traitor.

"Shall I invite him in?" asked Ume, hoping she had not interrupted his musings.

"Yes, of course." Akio put away his troubles for later. He had already thought up a ruse to smoke out the traitor. All that remained was to implement it. Hearing the approaching footsteps, he focused his mind on the task at hand.

"My lord." Ichiro bowed politely.

"Please, take a seat." Akio gestured to a chair beside him. He watched Ichiro sit down, pleased by how calm he looked. Most people were terrified to have a one on one with the head of the Murakami–never knowing if it meant good or ill. And yet, despite his youth, Ichiro had all the strength and bearing of a man twice his age. It was clear that he had been born for greatness. "I've received word on your progress, Ichiro. You've destroyed the Dragon Claw group and wiped out the remnants of those scum the Red Turbans. You've strengthened the hold on your territory–more than half of the Harbor City is yours now I believe. Not to mention your master stroke of stealing Zuko's own warship–you've made him lose much face. I'm impressed, Ichiro, and that doesn't happen often."

Ichiro bowed his head, "My lord, you honor me greatly. I only did what any boss of the Murakami would do."

Akio understood the implication. Aside from Shuron, the others had not made much progress, certainly not enough to be made Lieutenant. He looked at Ichiro carefully, peering into his very soul, determining his worth. For now he could see no flaw. Can I really trust you Ichiro?

"If only they had your initiative." said Akio candidly. "Tell me, what do you plan to do with the warship?"

"I was thinking it could be a discreet form of transportation. Perhaps to the United Republic."

The corner of Akio's lips curled. Yes, young Ichiro certainly had initiative. If any Murakami ships tried to enter Kota's territory they'd be destroyed instantly. But even a savage like him wouldn't dare attack a Fire Nation vessel. Nor would he have reason to. With that warship they could sneak into the very heart of Kota's empire, Republic City, and end him.

Akio fought back a smile. He had tried to tackle the Kota problem from every angle, and yet he had overlooked the obvious. Cut off the head and the snake dies with it. Well done, Ichiro, well done.

"Keep it hidden for the time being. The tides are not yet in our favor." There was still the traitor to find, the Maelstrom Pirates to deal with, and now the little incident with Zuko.

Aang had failed him. It seemed the Avatar still couldn't take someone's life, no matter what they'd done. How foolish!

Immediately after the explosion he had rushed to the palace for the sake of posterity and to his surprise found the Fire Lord still alive. He was badly burned and cut up, his arm in a sling, but alive nonetheless. Akio had gone through all the necessary pleasantries, all the while furious that his scheme had fallen through.

He had planned it all so carefully, it should have gone off without a hitch. Aang had been so easy to trick. Akio had played on his emotions to perfection, mixing truth with lies and half-lies to the point that he had even begun to convince himself. All the while, he had never revealed that he had Katara–there had been no need. When the Avatar stormed out in rage he had thought Zuko was as good as dead. And now his plans were ruined.

I guess I should have seen it coming from an airbender, he thought bitterly. He hadn't spoke with the Avatar since the incident, but Aang remained a guest in his hotel and Akio didn't think it wise to kick him out. Not yet.

On the bright side, Zuko's injuries hindered him from further interfering with Akio's maneuvers. That and his spirit had been wounded as well. The Fire Lord's utter defeat at the hands of his nemesis, coupled with his wife's betrayal, had left him crushed on the inside. In his mind, Akio smiled cruelly.

It was not a total loss. He still had his backup plan–the lovely Lien Yun. Since his first meeting with Zuko, he had been preparing her for the sole task of manipulating the young Fire Lord. To win his desire and never let go. Maybe even to gain his love–if Zuko was even capable of such an emotion. Now that Katara was out of the picture even the position of Fire Lady wasn't out of her reach.

Perhaps things are better this way, he thought. If Zuko died there was no guarantee his successor would be any better. Since both his father and sister were incapable it would have to be someone outside his immediate family. And as far as Akio knew, they were all imbeciles.

"Forgive me, my lord." began Ichiro, deciding to say what had been on his mind since he had arrived. "Is it safe to keep the Fire Lady in your palace? If the Fire Lord were to find out–"

"He won't." said Akio with confidence. Though in his mind he began to contemplate that issue as well.

* * *

He ran as fast as his feet could carry him, not daring to look behind him. It was night. The moon was obscured by dark clouds and a shadow fell over the capital. What had been a pleasant breeze in the morning was now a merciless wind, howling through the quiet streets. In the darkness he almost made a wrong turn into a dead end, but he quickly got his bearings and continued to run. He was still on the outskirts of the capital and far from safety.

The night had started out like it always did, hitting the bars up and down the capital. Mostly down. Only upstanding citizens were welcome in the main city and he wasn't upstanding. Not anymore. Now he was nothing but a no-good drunk, and soon he would be dead.

He forced the thought of death out of his mind, he could still make it. Slowing down to catch his breath he ventured a glance behind him. His heart almost leapt into his throat as he saw the dark figure dashing along the rooftops, headed right towards him. Frantically he resumed running, his breathing shallow now, his legs cramping up.

Why was this happening to him? He had lain low ever since the day he had been dishonorably discharged. Was there anyone even alive to remember that day? Or was it the spirits of the dead that hunted him now?

Outside the Hawk and Fire bar was where he had first seen it. Its face blue, its fangs grinning, the eyes dark and empty. And not a word was said, not one. It had approached him slowly, swords drawn, he had known then that it had come for him. So he ran, but he knew he couldn't outrun the inevitable.

He could see the crater now, only a few minutes away to the main city–to safety. Forcing himself to be strong he fought back the pain in his chest and sprinted faster. He turned the corner, avoiding another dead end, then down a small winding street and a narrower back alley, occasionally glancing behind him–the monster nowhere in sight. The alley turned into a bigger street and he followed it all the way up, relieved that he had lost his pursuer. Another turn and he would be on the street leading into the main city.

With his remaining strength he reached the corner, rounded it, and froze in his tracks. There it was, waiting for him. The empty eyes boring into him, the fanged grin mocking him, saying what a fool he was to think he could outrun his demise. He bunched his fists, his heart pounding in his chest, but him not noticing–ready to fight to the end. He rushed the masked figure, the Blue Spirit sidestepping easily, tripping him.

He hit the ground hard, his palms bleeding as they skidded along the concrete. The pain in his chest tightened suddenly. He coughed, tasting the blood in his mouth. Jumping to his feet he rushed at it once more, the Blue Spirit blocking all his attacks, grinning all the while. It was toying with him, watching him writhe like a worm in an eagle's claws. Furiously he kicked up, hoping to smash that wretched grin off its face. The Blue Spirit easily caught his leg and threw him on his back once more.

He fell on his elbow, fracturing it, the pain shooting through his arm. The scream came almost of its own volition, and yet no one came to help him. Outside of the main city the guards didn't even bother and the civilians were too concerned with their own lives to give a damn about anyone else. He picked himself up now, his long greasy hair obscuring his aged face. Life had passed by too quickly, he hadn't even had a chance to enjoy it before that day…that day changed him forever and turned him into this. He smirked, his own worthlessness suddenly amusing.

Looking up, he saw those empty eyes staring at him and he matched them–now unafraid. The Blue Spirit drew its swords as if reading his mind and approached him slowly. At that moment time seemed to freeze for him. The clouds in the sky parted and the sun now shined overhead. His rags were gone and he was dressed in fine silken robes, his hair neat and packed comfortably under fire nation headgear. He no longer felt pain or regret, only a great relief. Looking up at the sky he smiled, the blue horizon welcoming him, absorbing him into its vast emptiness.

Smiling, he lay on the ground, blood pouring out of the deep cut in his chest. Slowly his eyes fell shut as the moon shined over the city.


	12. The Die is Cast

Shen sat comfortably on the large couch in the House of Heavenly Clouds. The sound of gentle strings music reverberated through the room, almost drowning out the noises of lovemaking, but not quite. Seated on his lap, a young girl sighed sensually. Her makeup was a tad overdone, yet at the same time seemed to enhance her exotic beauty. The house itself was well furnished, albeit in bad taste. The girls that worked there varied from rather plain to almost beautiful–like the one in his lap. Even so, Shen could tell this was a second rate establishment at best. Had he been drunk enough and had the girls been better trained, he might have even believed he was closer to the Crater. Glancing now at the owner, her graying hair wrapped in overused hair ornaments, he knew he was still in the Harbor City.

"So," began the Madame, choosing her words carefully, "I hope my girls pleased you."

"They were a tad uninspired." replied Sachio. He was on a couch next to Shen's, his girl more traditional in appearance and clearly the best this house had to offer.

The Madame kept her face calm, her eyes noticeably frightened, "I'm sorry to hear that. In the future I'll make sure they are more enthusiastic."

"Or better trained." muttered Shen, drumming his fingers absentmindedly on the girl's thigh. Her acting had almost made him cringe. With all her allure, she should have just kept silent and the result would have been far more effective.

The Madame glared in Shen's direction and the girl on his lap shuddered in fear. Smirking, he ran his hand along her shoulder to calm her down. Doubtlessly she and her companion would be beaten for making their mistress lose face. Poor girl.

"All the same, we are here on Shiraga Family business." continued Sachio, "I understand you stopped making payments sometime last month."

"I didn't stop making payments." said the Madam nervously. "The collectors simply stopped coming."

"Is that so?" Sachio motioned across the room to a woman standing in the corner–her face was tattooed as a Yu Yan Archer. As she walked over the Mistress shuddered. The woman glanced at her briefly, before handing Sachio a ledger.

Taking it, he flipped to a certain page. "It says here you refused to pay on three occasions, claiming that you had no money."

"Well, business was slow. The end of summer is always slow."

"And yet you somehow found the money to repaint your walls, buy new furniture, and purchase a case of very expensive Su Lang wine. Imported of course." Sachio looked at her forcefully.

"I-I," the Madame lowered her gaze, and continued almost whispering, "Those purchases were necessary for business. I have to maintain my house."

Sachio sighed, the excuse all too familiar by now. It was one that had been echoed in practically every business they had visited in the past week. A few owners even thought to belittle them, refusing to pay so much as a copper piece–their mutilated bodies now served as a warning to the others.

The Harbor City was theirs now, there was no denying it. Any rivals were gone–Ichiro had personally hunted down every last member of the Dragon Claw Group and their friends the Red Turbans. Word of his aggression had shaken the city and now its denizens fell meekly into line. Thanks to the docks, their family's influence had even spread outside the city. Slowly, but surely, they were creeping into the other nations. Soon they'd rival even the great Okura Family!

Boss Shuron's sure to pop a blood vessel at tonight's meeting, thought Sachio, greatly pleased with himself. Even his Uncle Ryota would be jealous of the family's growing power. And all of this was thanks to his skill–his and Ichiro's of course. But deep down he knew that Ichiro was nothing but a lowly grasper. One who had risen far above his capabilities. Eventually he would fall and then Sachio would be in charge. After all, what chance did a nonbender stand in this world?

"In that case you'll be maintaining an empty house." said Sachio finally, rising from the couch. "We'll be seeing you." He motioned for Shen who shifted the girl onto the couch and began to follow.

"Wait!" the Madame shouted, "I'll pay." Her voice faltered. "I'll pay."

Sachio turned around, waiting patiently.

The Madame meekly walked into her office and came out with a small metal strongbox. Opening it up, she got out a string full of gold pieces and handed it to Sachio with a bow. He took it noncommittally, weighing it in his hand before pocketing it carefully. He began to leave, but turned around suddenly and took a second string, to the Madame's horror.

"For the handling fee." He said and walked out the door with the others.

"Did you really have to take so much?" asked Shen, when they were out of hearing.

"No, but this will teach that old hag to lie to the Murakami Clan." Untying the string, he pulled off a few coins and handed them to Shen.

"What's this for?" he asked, arching a brow.

"For your help." Despite his reservations, Sachio had come to like Shen. He was smart, reliable, and loyal. Once Ichiro was out of the way, he might even make a decent underboss.

"Thanks." Shen pocketed the coins, wondering what he was up to.

"And this is for you, Izumi." said Sachio, handing the woman a similar number of coins.

"Aren't we generous today." she replied, her expression unreadable beneath her tattoos.

"I've got to take care of some things before tonight's meeting, so you two should take the rest of the day off. Maybe visit some of the finer establishments in the crater." He glanced at Shen. "I hear the Red Oasis has some new girls." Shen grinned. Then turning to Izumi, "And the Silver Palm next door has experienced men. I hear they're quite good."

Izumi scoffed, "No thanks."

"Suit yourself." Sachio shrugged, "Don't stay out too late, the Boss wants to see everyone at headquarters after the meeting. Later."

As Sachio disappeared around the corner, Shen sighed. It was dangerous to get a swelled head. You start making mistakes. But that's what happens when you're suddenly promoted–your new-found power consumes you. Yet surprisingly, Ichiro was holding up pretty well. The position of Boss suited him. He didn't make any amateur mistakes or blunders. He asserted control slowly and carefully, never overestimating either himself or his men–a natural born leader.

"Drink?" asked Izumi, her eyes watching him carefully.

"Sure." As they walked down the road, Shen's thoughts shifted to her.

It was hard to tell what she looked like beneath that rough outfit and face tattoos. Her features were plain, but not necessarily unattractive. As to her figure, it was clear she was slender, but her clothes concealed the rest. I wonder what she's hidden away, thought Shen.

He was careful to keep his thoughts off his face. Her deadliness still unnerved him, even though they were on the same side, and then there was so little he knew about her–practically nothing aside from her name.

"Tell me, why are you here?" she asked, interrupting his musings.

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, why are you in the Murakami Clan?" Izumi turned to look at him. "Do you like being a criminal?"

Shen smirked, "I could ask you the same question."

"My story is a bit more obvious." she returned her attention to the road, "I'm a soldier, and a soldier without a war is like a fish out of water. There's not many jobs that require my skills."

"So you're just here for the money?" he asked jokingly.

"That's one way of putting it. So what about you?"

"Same for me, I suppose." muttered Shen, putting his hands in his pockets for warmth.

"No…that can't be it." said Izumi, thoughtfully.

He scoffed, "Oh, really?"

"There's more to it than that."

Shen arched a brow, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're not the greedy type." said Izumi, her eyes focused on the road.

"How can you tell?"

Izumi paused to look at him, "I can tell." Shen grunted and they continued walking. "But, I suppose it's none of my business."

They rounded the corner–avoiding the busy merchant's street and the clatter of carts and carriages. From there they circled around the block before continuing on to their destination.

"Do you enjoy it?" he asked, as they crossed the street. "Killing I mean."

She stopped suddenly, her eyes locking with his. Once more Shen felt the deadliness within them and he almost wavered. He quickly got a hold of himself and returned her stare.

"Sorry, I was just being curious." said Shen, "I suppose it's none of my business."

They resumed walking, silently now. Neither looking at the other. Both absorbed in their own private thoughts. At last they reached the Ku Lang bar, a popular haunt of the Shiraga men. As Shen reached to open the door, Izumi at last broke the silence.

"No." she muttered, and for a brief instant Shen thought he saw a tint of sadness in her eyes. But just as suddenly, it vanished, and only the deadliness remained.

* * *

"That's all." finished Ichiro, summing up the report on his operations. Everything seemed to be going perfectly for him, some of the other bosses were even jealous. Shuron especially, but then that man hated anyone who came close to surpassing him.

"Thank you, Ichiro." said Akio, greatly impressed with his progress. Soon he would once again have a capable lieutenant–one he could count on. Kuro, his previous lieutenant, had been a childhood friend. He had also been a tactical genius and it was due in no small part to him that Akio had gotten to where he was today. While he didn't show it, Kuro's death had pained him greatly and he was determined now more than ever to destroy Kota and his wretched syndicate.

After they've suffered enough, he thought malevolently. He could almost picture the terror in Kota's eyes. The utter helplessness of his blood curdling screams as Akio's men scourged him with whips of fire. And at the very end, when he could no longer scream, when even the begging and pleading had stopped, when he was just a hollow shell, only then would Akio allow him to die.

"My Lord," Ryota stood from his seat, "Shouldn't we begin planning a counterattack?"

"I agree with Ryota." said Eri. She was the new boss of Kuro's family, the Akera. "We can't just stay on the defensive. Our men and holdings in the Earth Kingdom are being systematically eradicated. Kota is using all his strength to muscle us out. If anything, now's the time to attack. While his forces are spread thin."

"But what of the Maelstrom pirates?" asked Ichiro.

"They are no longer a problem." answered Shuron as he rose from his seat, smiling triumphantly. "I have negotiated a deal with their leader. They have promised not to interfere with our operations and have vowed to support us against Kota." A loud cheer went through the room.

"Well done, Shuron." said Akio, clapping his hands. "Well done indeed. Tell me, how did you manage to pull it off?"

"Well, Kota offered to pay them three hundred thousand gold pieces in exchange for their support. They seemed rather satisfied with his offer. That is, until I offered them one million. They seemed to like my offer more." The entire hall rung with laughter, even Akio gave a slight chuckle.

"I thank you for this great achievement, Shuron, and I assure you I will not forget to reimburse you." Shuron smiled politely. "When we stamp out Tempest Kota you shall have your pick off his territory–except for Republic City, of course."

As he sat back down, Akio wondered if Shuron got the message. It was obvious that this was all part of his plan to become lieutenant. Why else would he stake one million gold pieces on the promises of pirates? As lieutenant he would be entitled to Republic City–as Kuro was. With a city like that under his control he would become too dangerous and that he could not allow.

Seeing the all too familiar grimace, Akio knew he had been understood. It was really for the best. Shuron just didn't know it.

"With this deal, we are one step closer to being rid of Kota." continued Akio. "However, the time is not yet right. There are still many preparations to be made. I ask all of you to be patient and to conserve your strength for the battle to come." Akio felt the disappointment in the room, but knew he was right. "That's all for tonight, this meeting is adjourned."

When the hall was empty he turned to Ume, "Bring Yuzuki here, now."

"As you wish, my lord." She bowed and began to leave.

"Oh and after you're finished with that, tell Manami I wish to have breakfast with her tomorrow, alone. And tell Kayo I wish to spend the morning with her in the gardens."

She turned around, "My lord?"

"Just tell them plainly," said Akio, going over the plan in his mind. "They mustn't suspect a thing."

"Of course, my lord. It will be done." Ume bowed once more and quietly left the room.

As the door shut behind her, Akio rose from his chair and walked around the table slowly, deep in thought. Now that the Maelstrom Pirates were out of the way, only one issue remained before he could launch his attack–the traitor. It wasn't Ume. No, he trusted Ume with his life. And it wasn't one of his bosses, he had already determined that. All that remained were his wives.

Akio had thought on the plan long and hard before finally deciding. He would tell each of them about a separate shipment, but tell it in a way that made them think they had coerced the information out of him themselves. From there it was a simple matter of waiting–Kota would do the rest.

But then comes the hard part, thought Akio. They were his wives and he had children by them. Whichever one turned out to be the traitor would have to be put to death–and their children with them. There could be no mercy.

As he weighed the decision heavily in his mind, he caught a glimpse of the tapestry with his family motto, hanging high above the head of the table. _Conquer yourself and you'll conquer the rest_. All doubts left him. He knew what had to be done.

* * *

The sunset shone through the heavy curtains of the Fire Lord's bedroom, falling on Zuko's sleeping face. Instantly he was awake. He began to stand up, but the pain rushed at him from all sides and he lay back down in defeat. For a moment he was delirious, then his eyes adjusted to the light and he glanced out the window. At the sight of the pale red sky, Zuko realized he had slept through most of the day. He only remembered waking up briefly in the morning so that the healers could do their work–not that it helped.

For over a week now they had tended to his injuries, employing all manner of treatments, and still he had not healed. The doctors said he was lucky to be alive, but Zuko didn't think so. The daily suffering, the helplessness, and worst of all the shame that he, the Fire Lord, had been swept aside like a common criminal.

Aang. The name burned as painfully as his arm burned. Zuko bit his lip, the agony gradually subsiding.

The doctors had given him a grim prognosis. He might never regain the use of his left arm and if he did, the arm would never have its full strength. One of them had even suggested Zuko have it removed–he had had the man flogged for his audacity.

Suddenly, the burning returned, this time worse than before. In the dim light, Zuko reached out for the medicine bottle. The Earth Kingdom doctor had prescribed him opiates to dull the pain and to reduce the fever infection might bring–so far it had been his only escape. Running his hand along the nightstand, he tried desperately to find it.

"Here you go, my lord." Zuko turned to the sound of the voice and saw Lien Yun, arm outstretched, the bottle in her hand.

"Thank you." he said, in a voice he scarcely recognized as his own. Opening the stopper, he drank a small amount–the doctor had warned him it was dangerous. Placing the bottle on his nightstand, he glanced at her once more. She looked tired, unkempt. Had she been watching over him all day?

For the past week she had almost never left his side. Serving him, helping him, always within reach. She was the only light in his now dismal life. With her, it felt almost like it had with Katara when they were first married. Was it love?

Seeing the pain subsiding, Lien Yun allowed herself a small smile. Her large eyes peering at him kindly. "You have been asleep for a long time, my lord. Would you like something to eat?"

Zuko shook his head. Perhaps it _was_ love. He had never felt this way about the other women–not even Mai. And now that Katara was missing, the Fire Nation needed a new Fire Lady. Maybe all this was meant to be.

"Your majesty." Zuko's chamberlain was standing at the door. "If you're feeling better, there is urgent–"

"How dare you." Lien Yun hissed, her eyes furious. "Can you not see the Fire Lord is still recovering?"

"It's alright." said Zuko, forcing himself to sound strong. "Have my men help me to the throne room."

"Yes, your majesty." The chamberlain hurried away.

Once more, Zuko forced himself to rise. Slowly, he climbed out of bed, a little woozy, the opiates dulling his senses, the pain seeming distant now. Standing up, he held onto to the bed post, trying to balance himself. His vision blurred and he sat back down, the pain returning. He cursed silently. All this suffering so unnecessary. With water from the spirit oasis it would be gone in an instant and his injuries easily healed.

The Northern Water Tribe's ambassador had told him the matter was being given all possible urgency, but Zuko knew a refusal when he heard one. Once more the great Chief Arnook saw fit to punish him. If not for the Avatar, he would gladly send out a fleet to humble that bitter old man. At the thought of Aang, Zuko felt the pain increasing. He grabbed the bottle and took a slightly larger gulp.

Now his eyelids felt heavy and he began to drift off. The walls moving further and further away. The sky growing dark as the moon rose over the horizon, bright red and–snapping out of it, he shook his head, forcing himself to stay awake. First he must attend to his duties and then he would sleep.

"There have been six murders so far, your majesty." said the General of the Capital's guards. He was standing half in darkness, other officials not far behind him. The throne room was dimly lit, the fires around Zuko small and weak. After the fight with Aang, the throne room had been temporarily relocated. Much of the palace was still in ruins and construction crews worked day and night to rebuild.

"At first we thought it was just the usual mischief." continued the General. "But then one of my men noticed a pattern. All those who were murdered served in the same unit."

"I see." said Zuko, finding it hard to concentrate.

"Then, your chamberlain presented me with the message from the Earth King. It seems they too have had a string of murders, which they blame on a masked killer known as the Blue Spirit." Zuko's eyes grew wide. "After looking at the list of those killed in the Earth Kingdom, we confirmed that they too were members of this unit."

"How many men are left?" asked Zuko, greatly perturbed.

"Only two." The general took out a small book and opened it. "A Lieutenant Ryota and War Minister Choy." At the sound of his name the Minister trembled.

"May I have that?" asked Zuko.

"Of course, your majesty." The General handed him the book and Zuko quickly leafed through the pages. It detailed the members of the unit as well as the record of its service in the Earth Kingdom. He put it down for the time being.

"Do you know anyone who would want you dead, Choy?" said Zuko, straining to keep his voice strong.

"I…I don't know." The Minister bowed his head. He had heard of the deaths, but he had thought–and silently prayed–they were only coincidence. "It was war. We did many things I'm not proud of. But I…I just don't know."

Zuko sensed the regret and looked at him sympathetically, "Do you know this Lieutenant Ryota?"

Choy lifted his head and tried to stand tall, "Yes, he was my second in command."

"So you were in charge of this unit?"

"That's right."

Zuko nodded weakly. His vision was growing fuzzy and his body felt half asleep, nonetheless he forced himself to concentrate. "Any idea where Ryota might be?"

"No, I haven't spoken with him in some time, your majesty. I've heard rumors he may have joined up with criminals, but that's only hearsay. I can't be sure."

"Very well then." Zuko sat up in his throne. "General Nao, have your men scour the city, find this Blue Spirit. Bring him to me dead or alive–preferably alive."

"As you wish, your majesty." The General bowed and headed out.

"Lord Chamberlain." Zuko continued, "Send messenger hawks to all Fire Nation administrators, I want this Lieutenant Ryota found and brought in for questioning."

"As you wish, your majesty." The chamberlain bowed low and left as well.

"General Hoto." Hearing his name, the new head of Zuko's Royal Procession approached the throne and bowed reverently, "You will double the guards on the palace and the surrounding areas. I also want a hundred of my guards to personally insure War Minister Choy's safety."

"It will be done, your majesty."

"Good." Zuko watched him leave, before motioning to his guards to give the minister and him some space. Taking out the book he flipped to a particular page. "Now then, War Minister, tell me what happened at the village of Shao Jin."

* * *

It was noon in Republic City. The sun had reached its zenith and its light glistened in the clear waters of Yue Bay. Inbound and outbound ships filled the harbor, while wooden carts and the occasional vehicle crowded the docks. Far in the background, the frames of several high rises reached for the sky. Some of them were already taller than Akio's Royal Dragon Hotel, but they were far from finished. Rumor had it that some of them were going to be over a hundred stories tall and filled with the latest technological marvels.

On the outskirts of the bay, on a small island, workers labored intensively on a massive pedestal. It was here that a statue honoring Avatar Aang would be built, at the head of the city. And rightly so, for it was he who created the United Republic, he who kept it strong, and most importantly it was he who had brought the nations together. Even the greatest monument would not do him justice.

Further in, behind the island, large barges and construction ships labored on several mountainous caissons. These would form the basis for suspension bridges connecting the center of Republic City to the mainland. Their design was ambitious and ingenious. Clearly the work of the great engineer, Sokka. Republic City was truly a masterpiece and only he could have made such a grand vision a reality.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Kota held his little daughter gently in his arms as they peered through the window across the bay.

She giggled softly and yelled, "Swim!"

Kota laughed, "No, it's far too cold to go swimming. And besides, you're so little, the sea serpents couldn't resist gobbling you up!" The little girl stared at him, wide eyed.

"Now now, don't worry." He hugged her protectively. "I'd never let them." There was a knock on the door.

"Come in." A young man in his twenties entered the room and bowed politely. He was tall, with a stern face, thick coarse hair, and the blue eyes of a water tribesman.

"Yakone, what is it?" asked Kota, putting his daughter down.

"A message from your informant." He held out the sealed scroll.

Kota took it gruffly and quickly broke the seal, his eyes darting over the contents. A smile came to his face. "Very good, have our men intercept this convoy. Make sure you capture those ships intact and try to bring back some prisoners this time. Dead men tell no secrets."

"As you wish, sir." Yakone bowed and moved to leave. He saw the little girl looking at him and he shot her a harsh look. As he closed the door, he heard her whimper in fear. He smiled cruelly.

The truth was he hated working for Kota. The man was blockhead, with a singular one-track mind. His lack of tact at times both astounded and disgusted him. For a leader of such a large organization, he was in truth a very small man. Small and weak.

Yakone knew that he would make a better leader. He had grand ambitions and most importantly the brains to realize them. And then there was his power. He had kept it secret all his life, training hard to perfect it–bloodbending, the forbidden art, but unlike most benders he could perform the technique without the aid of a full moon. He could even control large groups of people at the same time, perhaps as many as a hundred. It would be only too easy to take over the syndicate–and then the city. All he needed was the right opportunity.


	13. Blood and Water

It moved through the darkness like only a shadow can. Weaving in and out of the emptiness as it went; unseen, unheard, like a phantom–a spirit. Down below, the milling crowds didn't notice or didn't care. They were far to absorbed in their own little worlds, full of their own little lies. Murder, greed, lust, these were everyday things in the capital. No one denied that. Not outright. No, they chose to keep it hidden, even from themselves, as little by little they were consumed.

A light step, a soft whisper, and the shadow leapt onto the next rooftop. Touching down, only briefly, before sprinting forward and making the next jump–those inside the building not even hearing. Another jump, a sudden turn, and it was on the crater now. The guards there were pensive, yet tired–slow. The shadow easily rushed past their sight and was in the heart of the city. Now, light darted at it from every direction, like a hundred spears. Penetrating, illuminating, inescapable. For a brief moment, those below saw a dark figure shoot past overhead–but they payed it no heed.

Their ignorance was truly dazzling, like their seemingly perfect lives. In the capital, those below were wretched and those above revered. They were considered to be the best the Fire Nation had to offer and yet even they–especially they–were rotten inside and out.

Stepping noiselessly atop the towering structure, the shadow paused for a moment. All around, the city opened up to its gaze. The Royal Dragon gave a complete view of the capital that spanned out in every direction. The blinding lights, the shadows below, nothing went unseen. Gradually, the shadow lowered itself and peered inside the top floor. All was dark inside the Royal Suite, not so much as a flicker of candlelight. It was quiet too–dead quiet. Suddenly, the moon came out from behind the clouds and light engulfed the roof. The shadow's face lit up–blue, fanged, and horrible–as did the room inside.

In the far corner of the Royal Suite, the Avatar sat deep in meditation. His eyes were closed and desolate, yet strained, as if he was retreating within himself. He looked as though he'd been there for days. His hair and his beard were very noticeable, as was his deathly pallor. The Blue Spirit lifted itself up. Its eyes expressionless. Slowly it turned in the direction of another building bathed in light–the fanged grin seemed more sinister.

Like smoke it vanished in thin air, reappearing briefly on another rooftop. It lept across, more anxious now. Faster and faster, closing the gap–almost reckless, but still in control. The massive buildings seemed like mere stepping stones and the vast streets mere puddles. Nothing could stand in its way–not when it was this close.

At last, the War Minister's palace was in sight. The Blue Spirit came to a halt a few feet away. Even though they were well hidden, it had noticed the guards. They were dressed in dark camouflage, practically invisible to the naked eye. It was their breathing that had given them away, gruff and labored. They were cold no doubt–and arrogant. They covered the rooftops surrounding the palace, complemented by those on the ground. Not to mention those that were likely to be inside. It was clear they were waiting for something, but for what they did not know. A loud grunt below–there were even a few rhino riders, dark and menacing, slowly circling the grounds.

Then, a metallic thundering grabbed the Blue Spirit's attention. From behind the building a colossal metal chassis slowly emerged–it was a tank. A similar sound came from across the courtyard and another tank soon joined it. The Blue Spirit faded into the darkness.

A sound like that of raindrops echoed through the night–then stopped suddenly. A second echo, and another, and another, drawing closer. One of the guards, peered out of his camouflage and strained his eyes in the night. He could make out only darkness–suddenly the fanged face leapt out of the emptiness and he died before he had a chance to scream. As he fell to the ground, a dull thud, his face was a contortion of pain and horror. His companions soon shared his fate.

Muffled grunting, followed by a silent scream–the Blue Spirits hand covered the last guard's mouth as it pulled the dagger out of its lungs. It was making short work of them, the rooftops were all clear. Down below, the guards patrolled the grounds warily. They were decked out in the bright red uniform of the Royal Procession and their cold methodic attitude was indicative of their prowess. Around them, the palace grounds were bathed in light–there was no place to hide. Impossible to go unseen, they were too professional. The Blue Spirit circled around back until, seeing a small platform jutting forth from the roof, it stopped and lowered itself gradually.

His knees were bent, heels dug into the woodwork, as his lower body hung from the platform. A rhino rider was passing directly below. Swiftly, he unwound the chain scythe stuffed into his belt. Making a loop he dropped it suddenly, and pulled up. The chain bit into the rider's neck as he pulled, lifting him out of his seat, and with a further flick of his wrists it snapped the bone.

He dropped the body down loudly and pulled himself back up. Within moments the guards were there, twenty in total. They approached the body, hands forward, their eyes scanning the surroundings.

"What happened?" asked their commanding officer. "Anyone see what happened?"

"No, sir. We just heard a noise and–" The soldier fell on his side, a dart in his neck. As the others turned in the direction of the shot, five more darts came from behind and five more bodies hit the ground.

The officer incinerated the surroundings, his men following suit as they fired blindly at the rooftops. All of a sudden screams came from among them, eclipsed by the sound of metal slicing through flesh. Swiftly the guards turned around and saw the Blue Spirit in their midst. They fired straight at him, but the Blue Spirit slinked to the ground–their flames striking one another. Leaping back up, he grabbed two of them by their wrists and twisted down, breaking them. While the remaining guards recovered from the misfire, he drew his swords and with a quick series of motions killed them all. Now, it was just him and the officer.

The Blue Spirit approached him menacingly. Seeing him, the officer leapt to his feet, and assumed a fighting stance. He was badly burned and his vision was blurring. Shuddering with a mixture of fear and rage, he fired a blast at his enemy's chest, the Blue Spirit swiftly dodged. A second blast, slightly weaker, the Blue Spirit avoided it as well. A third and fourth and a fifth, the flames growing weaker and weaker–the Blue Spirit blocking them with his swords now. At last the officer fell to the ground, drained. Looking up, he saw the Blue Spirit towering over him–he died badly.

Hearing all the commotion, the tank crews sped off in the direction of the noise. Arriving at the scene within moments they saw only bodies and dying flames. Inside the tank, the crew's breathing was loud and irregular. A few of them even shivered.

"What the hell happened here?" muttered one of the drivers. A small object flew past his head and landed with a dull thud on the floor of the tank. The driver turned his head and saw a small metal sphere, the top of it smoldering.

Two explosions resounded outside the palace. War Minister Choy, ran to the window. A guard quickly pushed him back.

"Careful, sir, it's dangerous to stand by the windows."

"What's going on out there? I demand to know what's happening!" cried the Minister.

"We have the situation under control." He said roughly.

"Under control!" the Minister roared. "Does that sound like control to you? I want out of here, you hear me? I demand to–"

"The Fire Lord gave us specific orders to keep you here, protected, so here you'll stay!" the guard turned around and faced the doorway.

A shout came from outside the room, "Downstairs! Downstairs!" The sound of guards running echoed through the corridor.

The War Minister face turned a sickly grey and he collapsed on his couch. He hadn't slept at all since his meeting with the Fire Lord. The thought of his former comrades murdered and him next had shattered his psyche. And then, forced to remember that awful day, that tragedy that should have never been– Shao Jin, that name left a bitter taste in his mouth, like ashes from a corpse.

"Look out!" The scream snapped him back to reality. A loud crash came from across the hall, followed by the sounds of firebending. A second crash, closer now. Horrible screams, still closer. The Minister felt his guts retreat into his spine, his throat tightening as his mouth gaped wide in fear.

The doors to the room came crashing open. Standing at the entrance was a horrific phantom surrounded by flames, it latched its empty eyes onto the Minister and he felt his heart stop beating. The guard fired a blast, but the phantom dodged it easily. It drew its swords, crossed its arms, and slashed in both directions, spilling the guard's throat.

They were alone now. The Minister barely breathing–each gulp of air burning like fire. As the Blue Spirit turned and flicked the blood off its blades, he whimpered helplessly. The cruel phantom stepped lightly through the pool of blood, seemingly relishing its warmth. Its empty eyes bored into him, its fanged grin pitiless and sadistic.

"P-p-please, I beg you." the Minister croaked. "I know who you are. I-I know what happened!"

The Blue Spirit continued, undeterred. The Minister looked around desperately for help, but saw only death.

"It was a mistake. I didn't order it! I tried to stop them!" the Minister sank deeper into his couch, his fingernails digging into the fine satin. "Please! I beg you!" Tears now streamed down his face, his bottom lip quivering shamelessly. "For the love of–"

The swords silenced him once and for all. A thin trickle of blood streamed along the couch, growing stronger and thicker, finally turning into a river. The Blue Spirit watched it as if rooted to the spot. When the sanguine flow at last came to a stop, he sheathed his swords and walked towards the door. At that moment the guard on the floor raised his head and with his dying breath blasted him in the arm.

* * *

The scream echoed through Akio's palace and jerked Katara out of sleep. For a moment she was dazed, unsure whether the cry had been real or in her dreams. Then there was a commotion, men running back and forth, the whole palace was awake. Quickly, she leapt out of bed. There was a small skin of water by her bedside and she grabbed it, not knowing what to expect.

Was it help at last, she wondered. Had Aang come to save her? As the noises outside grew louder she began to make out single words and none of them sounded pleasant. Perhaps it wasn't Aang after all. Maybe it was Zuko. She shuddered at the thought. The mere notion of him finding her and dragging her back to the palace made her sick to her stomach. Slowly, the door to her room opened a fraction and Katara swiftly bended an orb of water in front of her.

A voice whispered urgently through the opening, "Katara, please, it's me." The door opened further and she realized who it belonged to.

"Manami?" Katara's arms fell to her sides, the water spilling to the ground.

"Katara, please you have to help me!" she rushed into the room and knelt on the floor, hugging Katara's knees. "Please, I'm begging you! They're going to kill my son!"

Katara tried to back away, not understanding. "I don't–"

"Please!" Manami looked up at her, pleading. It was then that Katara noticed the desolation in her eyes. The utter despair.

Stooping, Katara picked her up. "Manami, I'll help you, just tell me what's happen–"

"She's here!" Two of Akio's men burst into the room. "Don't move."

Manami cowered behind as Katara bended the water on the ground into a stream around her and assumed a battle stance, ready to strike. "Stay back." she warned.

"This is not your fight, Fire Lady." said one of the men. "Lower your hands and stand aside."

"Make me." She replied, causing the man to seethe.

"Fuck this bitch, I'll kill her as well!" He fired a powerful blast aimed straight at her. Katara reacted instantly, raising her arms, creating a water shield. Before either of them had a chance to follow up, she thrust both her hands forward, sweeping them back into a wall and freezing them to the spot.

Katara grabbed Manami by the arm. "Come on, we have to leave!" She refused to budge.

"Not without my boy! Not without Takeo!"

"We have to go! There'll be more of them!"

"Manami!" the voice came from the corridor. Katara immediately recognized it as Akio's. "Manami, I know you've betrayed me. I know what you've done." Katara turned to her and saw with one look that she was guilty. At the sound of his voice, Manami began to shake violently–fear taking hold of her mind.

Katara slammed the door and bolted it shut. Turning back to her she shouted more urgently, "We have to leave!"

"Come out now and I'll spare you and the boy!" continued Akio, "You'll be free to leave the capital, I swear it." Manami looked at the door, her eyes clearly deranged. Katara moved to stop her, but she brushed her aside. "Takeo won't be harmed, but only if you come out right now!"

Katara grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "He's lying, he'll kill you both!" Manami stared at the door, not listening.

Katara shook her. "Do you hear me! You can't go out there!"

"This is your last chance, Manami!" Akio shouted. "Come out now, or you'll both die!" He waited for a response. The men behind him were getting anxious. There were close to fifty of them, Ichiro among them, even so Manami had managed to slip away.

That slimy bitch, he cursed. He had heard of the convoy's attack only moments ago and had rushed to her room personally, but she had been prepared. Luckily, they had managed to nab the infant and now it was only a matter of time. He hoped she would be foolish enough to surrender. More than anything he wanted her alive.

Seeing the pair of guards frozen to the wall, he shouted, "Your majesty, this is not your fight. That woman is a liar and a traitor. You gain nothing by protecting her. If you give her to me, I'll reward you. I'll make sure you escape the capital–this very night if you wish it! All I ask is that you give her up right now!"

Katara looked at Manami, nothing more than a frightened girl. A young mother desperate to protect her child. In those terrified golden eyes, she saw a reflection of herself.

"Tell your men to back off, Akio!" shouted Katara, ready to fight to the death. Akio sighed, turning to one of his soldiers he gave the signal.

The wall behind Katara blew away and sent the two of them sprawling. Before she had a chance to stand strong hands had her limbs pinned to the ground. From the corner of her eye she saw Manami being dragged away, screaming the whole time.

"Takeo! Takeo, I'm coming! I won't let them hurt you! I won't let them! Takeo! Takeo!"

When Katara could no longer hear her voice, she felt the hands back off and she raised herself angrily. A cold wind flowed through the broken wall and filled the ruined bedchamber. What had previously been an empty room was now crowded with Murakami soldiers, all of them watching her warily.

"That was very unwise of you, majesty." said Akio as he walked into the room. "Very unwise."

Katara lunged at him, but Ichiro caught her before she got far. She writhed in his grasp, clawing at his arm, screaming, but still he held fast.

Akio smirked, slightly amused. "You really are as vicious as Zuko claims. A true Fire Lady, no doubt."

"You fucking bastard!" she spat.

"Now, now, your majesty. You forget how delicate your position is." Akio smiled. "A single word to your beloved husband and…well I assume you have an imagination."

"Ahhh!" She struggled in Ichiro's hold, every fiber of her being wanting to kill him. "**YOU MURDERING SCUM!**"

Akio's smile faded away, "I suppose this is what I get for letting a Water Tribe _peasant_ stay in my palace. You're lucky that you're worth more alive." Turning around he added, "Ichiro, she's your problem now. Make sure she stays hidden."

"As you wish, my lord." He replied, never loosening his grip. Only when the two of them were completely alone did he at last let go.

"How could you!" she cried as she tore out of his grasp.

"How could I what?"

"How could you just let him…" tears began to stream down her face. "…just let him take Manami! And her son…" She collapsed on the ground, crying. Ichiro walked over and helped her sit on the bed, Katara clutching at his shirt, hating him as much as Akio. Wanting to kill him, but too weak. Too filled with anguish. And so she cried–for hours it seemed. The tears gradually dissolving the hatred.

Ichiro held her gently until the sobbing stopped. Even then, he continued to hold her, knowing the worst was not over yet. When at last she lifted her head, he handed her a handkerchief. For a while they sat in silence, him watching her carefully, her thoughts as clear as day to him. Patiently, he waited for the right moment to speak.

Katara didn't look him in the eyes. She was focused on the moon–crescent tonight. Shivering, she wrapped a blanket around her shoulders–the autumn nights were growing colder every day and this one seemed especially cold. Cold like her life–devoid of warmth or sympathy.

"There was nothing you could have done." said Ichiro. Katara didn't look up.

"Manami chose this fate for herself." He continued, "It was beyond anyone's power, mine or yours, to change it. You can't blame yourself for what happened."

Katara exhaled, her breath turning to mist, his words taking hold, gradually soothing away her guilt. For a while longer, they sat in silence. Then her grief resurfaced and the words came of their own accord.

"I just wish that something would change…" said Katara. She felt fresh tears coming and she forced them back. "No matter what I do or how hard I try, I'm always powerless. Powerless to help those I love–or even myself!" Katara bowed her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. All at once, memories of the past flooded her mind. She felt like she had when Zuko had raped her. Weak and ashamed. She remembered how she had run from the man who murdered her mother. Selfish and cowardly. She relived the moment when she had broken Aang's heart. Foolish and self-absorbed. She hated herself.

"I know how you feel." said Ichiro softly, his voice breaking through the torrent. "My parents despised me for being born a non-bender. They had had great ambitions for me, you see. Their child was supposed to be a prodigy. Instead, they got a disgrace."

Katara raised her head as he continued, "I know what it's like to feel powerless. Life can be cruel even to those that don't deserve it. But you can't let it get the best of you. You have to stay strong and overcome. You're a wonderful person, _Katara_, never think anything less."

Through her tear-filled eyes Katara no longer saw Ichiro, the room, or the moonlight. She was back in the Royal Palace gardens. It was summer and the Fire Lilies were just beginning to bloom. And Zuko was there, not cruel and vicious like he had become, but kind and gentle–the man she loved. All at once, she felt herself return to reality. Ichiro was watching her, his eyes soft and compassionate. At that moment the past was dead to her. She felt the last of her pain give way and she collapsed gladly into his embrace.


	14. Firestorm

A strong wind blew sharply from the direction of the sea. It weaved through the buildings of Republic City, lashed at the scaffoldings, and sent bits of debris flying everywhere. The sky above was clear, but far in the distance the shadows of dark clouds loomed on the horizon, out of range of most eyes. Not his.

Longshot furrowed his brows, his lips pursing involuntarily. A storm was coming, the first of the season, and by the looks of things it would not be pretty.

"Something wrong?" asked Smellerbee, watching him carefully. They were leaning on a railing overlooking the waters of Yue Bay. Directly ahead, the memorial to honor Aang was being constructed and behind them a partially completed high-rise reached for the stars.

"I don't like this." He muttered.

Smellerbee started, not expecting it from her usually silent companion. Longshot rarely spoke aloud, he didn't have to. They had known eachother so long they had no need for words. But when he did speak the reason was always serious. Smellerbee felt uneasy.

"Look, there's nothing to worry about." she said, more to herself than to him. "We've infiltrated the Tempest Syndicate just like Sokka wanted. Now we just need to sit tight until we can gather enough evidence to nail this guy."

Longshot turned his head and gave her a long stare.

Smellerbee laughed, "You worry too much! Look, Sokka would never risk our lives carelessly. Toph's police officers are posted nearby in case anything goes wrong. Relax."

Longshot narrowed his eyes and looked at her matter-of-factly.

"Huh? I'm not nervous! I'm fine, really." She looked down at her feet. Longshot put his hand on her shoulder and she raised her eyes. "Alright, I'm terrified. These guys are bad news, I know it. I mean we've seen the scum of the earth in our travels and even they pale in comparison to them! Especially that Yakone. I swear my spine freezes every time he glances at me."

Longshot watched her sympathetically, but when she was finished his eyes grew stern.

"I know, I know. I want to help! When we were in the Freedom Fighters we always dreamed of how we would rebuild. Repair all the damage the war had caused. It's just…" Smellerbee sighed. "Ever since Jet died it's just been the two of us and I…I don't want anything happen to you." She felt tears welling up in her eyes, but she hardened her heart, now was not the time for crying. "Longshot I–"

"Hey, you two!" They turned around and saw one of Kota's men waving to them. "Boss wants extra security tonight. You're to report to the lobby pronto."

"Alright, we'll be there!" shouted Smellerbee, then turning to Longshot. "Looks like we're up. Try to be optimistic. One of us has to be." She turned and walked away.

Longshot gave the bay one last look. In the distance he saw a dark shape approaching fast. It was large, steam powered, Fire Nation most likely, but the design was unfamiliar to him. He thought about waiting till it got closer, but decided against it. Turning back, he ran to catch up with Smellerbee.

* * *

The warship plowed its way into the harbor, splitting waves and sending smaller vessels scrambling. A Fire Nation flag hung from its command tower and from its prow, the markings a mere formality as only the Fire Nation was capable of constructing something so terrifying and powerful–at least for now. The mix of cultures in the United Republic, encouraged by Sokka, had combined Fire Nation technologies with Earth Kingdom metallurgy and had spawned a new era in the art of warfare. While the details of their designs were being kept strictly secret, it was rumored that the United Forces were developing a navy that would put all others to shame–but surely the Fire Lord would not allow that to happen.

The warship slowed down to a crawl. Although Republic City's harbor was massive it was for the most part still under construction. The calm waters of Yue Bay were ideal for berthing ships but there were many underwater rocks and shoals that were a potential hazard for unwary captains. As such, the United Republic Council had ordered several dredging craft to clear the ocean floor. Only a few years ago, such large scale clearance would have been unthinkable and yet now it seemed almost common place. With the war at an end the might of all the nations was focused on progress and technologies were evolving at an unprecedented rate. It was as if the world had been at a standstill all those years and was now racing to catch up. What seemed brand new one day was out of date the next. Just what would tomorrow bring?

As the ship dropped its anchors, Ichiro snapped out of his musings. The sky was overcast now, the air humid, wind turbulent–a storm was coming.

"Lower the ramp!" shouted Ichiro. The prow of the ship disconnected and fell to the dock with a metallic thud.

Outside, the Harbor Master was waiting, four guards with him. Two firebenders and two water benders. He looked impatient and uneasy.

Ichiro descended the ramp and shook hands with him, "Good evening, Suo Ji, I trust everything is as it should be?"

"Yes, the dock workers have been given the day off and as far as the Administrator is concerned this is just a quick maintenance stop."

Ichiro nodded, "How long do we have?"

"Two hours at the most. There's a big transport coming in from Ba Sing Se and this is the only berth large enough to accommodate." Ichiro narrowed his eyes and the Harbor Master shifted uncomfortably.

"Have you told anyone about our little arrangement?"

"I…no not a soul." The Harbor Master swallowed heavily.

Ichiro watched him carefully, "Not even the local crime boss?"

"The local crime…no I didn't."

"Come now, Suo Ji, you should know better than to lie to me." The Harbor Master's eyes grew wide. "You've talked to Yakone, haven't you? Kota's lackey. You've been on his payroll for some time, don't deny it."

"No I…I never told anyone!" Ichiro's eyes bored into him. "Alright, I told him. I said there was some Fire Nation ship coming in that the authorities weren't supposed to know about. I never told him who or what. I swear!"

Ichiro nodded, "I believe you." The Harbor Master gave a sigh of relief, then his eyes shot open and he fell flat on his face, his back smoldering. "Unfortunately, I don't like to leave loose ends. Especially treacherous ones." Ichiro tossed one of the guards a purse full of coins. They smiled greedily and quickly disappeared.

Going back up the ramp Ichiro called, "We're moving out!" His words were echoed throughout the ship as his men readied themselves for battle. Ichiro pulled a Fire Nation breastplate off one of the armory racks and began to put it on.

"What's the hurry?" asked Shen as he pulled off his robes to change.

"That son of a bitch sold us out." cursed Ichiro, struggling with the straps on his back. "Kota's men have probably spotted us by now."

Shen started, "Then why the fuck are we moving out? We should run while we can!"

"I didn't come this far to fail." Ichiro grimaced, shifting to the side latches. "Besides, he didn't tell them who we are. We've still got the drop on them, if we hurry."

Shen sighed, "You're the boss." Seeing Ichiro's struggle he asked, "You need any help with that?"

Ichiro muttered a curse, "Yeah, please." Shen walked over and easily fastened the remaining straps. Ichiro turned to make sure the armor wasn't too tight and found that it sat on him perfectly.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" he asked.

"From a soldier of course." As Shen stooped down to pick up his armor, Ichiro noticed his left arm was bandaged

"You alright?" he asked.

"Huh?"

"Your arm." Ichiro pointed, "Is it bad?"

"Oh this." Shen smirked, "Nothing to worry about. Got into a scrap in one of the bars, got burned. Nothing serious." He turned around and began to put on his armor.

Ichiro narrowed his eyes, "I hope the other guy looked worse."

"Much worse."

As Shen grabbed a pair of broadswords off the wall, Ichiro watched him suspiciously.

* * *

Yakone sat impatiently outside the main chamber in Kota's headquarters, located at the top of one of the city's high-rises. Although the building was only forty stories it was going to be a hundred and ten upon completion–the tallest building in the entire world. But none of that mattered to him now. All he could think about was getting away.

His eyes shifted left and right, his hand angrily drumming the arm rest. What was taking so long? He had half a mind to leave without permission, but that would be dangerous. On the off chance he was wrong, Yakone couldn't afford to put himself in jeopardy. And if he was right, he couldn't be seen to have had any prior knowledge. But damn, what was taking so long?

Earlier today, the harbor master had told him of an unregistered ship inbound from the Fire Nation. Large and full of what–he didn't say. Even so Yakone had guessed what it was. Kota had been so preoccupied with his victory he had spread himself thin. The Murakami Clan had purposely been avoiding clashes, gathering their strength for something. And now he knew what. Of course he didn't warn Kota. If that imbecile was foolish enough to leave himself open to such an attack he didn't deserve to live. And with Kota out of the way, control of the Syndicate and the city would both be his–if only he could get away.

Yakone looked anxiously at the clock on the wall. According to the harbor master, the ship should have docked by now. He was running out of time.

To hell with this, he thought, rising from his seat. At that moment the door opened and Kota shouted, "Yakone! In here, now!" Furious, he obeyed. As he walked into the room he saw Kota seated at his desk, smoking his pipe, deep in thought.

As if he has the capacity for thought, Yakone smirked in his mind.

Kota put down his pipe, "I've received word that my informant has been found out and executed. She was…a good daughter." Yakone started. "Faithful to the very end."

"Sir, I had no idea–"

"Save it." Kota seethed. Yakone felt his momentary remorse evaporate into nothingness. "That bastard Akio will pay for what he's done. Once the Maelstrom Pirates provide us with ships, I'll travel to the capital and personally feed him his own liver!" His rage subsiding, he returned to Yakone. "I want you to take charge of the guards tonight."

Yakone felt his heart freeze in his chest. "Me?"

"Yes, you!" Kota furrowed his brows. "Chief Beifong and her good for nothing police are getting nosy. From now on you'll be posted at headquarters, starting tonight. Understood?"

Yakone thought about arguing, but seeing the finality in those cold blue eyes, he bowed politely and left the room.

* * *

Longshot adjusted his bowstring, carefully tightening one of the knots at the end. He then weighed the bow in his arm, turning it first sideways then vertical, his eyes scanning it for any damage. Finding none, he replaced the bow in its quiver. Across the lobby, Smellerbee gave him a nod, all clear. Settling back into his perch overlooking the lobby, he tipped his hat. All clear.

The elevator doors swung open and Yakone got out testily. He walked over to one of the guards and muttered something to him. Longshot perked his ears, but could make out only a few words. Once he was finished, Yakone gave a long glance outside before retreating further into the lobby.

He looks anxious to get away, thought Longshot. Something's not right. His eyes scanned the area outside. Nothing. The guards were patrolling calmly and not a sound in any direction. It was growing darker by the minute and a light mist was picking up. Soon visibility would be poor. Clouds overhead were thicker, wind picking up, a storm was sure to–he saw it, a faint blur just for an instant. He raised himself, scanning the surroundings carefully. Nothing. Was it just his imagination?

A sudden burst of lightning temporarily blinded him. When it passed, the guards outside were on the ground, motionless. Leaping up, Longshot reached for an arrow, at that moment the glass front exploded into a million pieces and the attack began. There were hundreds of them, firebenders and nonbenders, Kota's guards greatly outnumbered.

Longshot strung two arrows and loosed them, striking his targets perfectly. Across the lobby Smellerbee had her knives out and fought four men at once. She dodged two of their fire blasts then darted forward and punched them both in the face, flooring them. Behind her a third man swung a large iron hammer that she swiftly avoided as the fourth one brandished a fire whip overhead. Her eyes darted from one to the other, feeling out their next move–she sensed the killing intent and side-stepped as the hammer smashed into the ground. She attacked, slashing his arms, sending him sprawling, before slinking to the ground, the fire whip passing harmlessly overhead. Jumping up, she threw one of her knives–the blade pierced the firebender's heart and he fell to the ground dead.

One of Kota's guards smashed into her as a fireblast sent him flying. Throwing him off, she struggled to her feet. Seeing her vulnerability, a group of soldiers went for the kill. Three thuds came from behind her and Smellerbee turned to see three men fall to the ground, arrows in their necks. Looking up, she smiled to Longshot before leaping into the fray once more.

Longshot watched her finish off two more soldiers. Pulling out an arrow he struck a man trying to outflank her. Then one more who had spotted him. As he reached for another arrow his ears heard a familiar hush in the air and he ducked his head, three arrows striking the wall behind him. Looking down he saw her, a Yu Yan Archer by her markings–a challenge.

He leapt from his perch as two more arrows flew his way. Fitting an arrow to his bow in midair he shot it directly at her head. She dodged, the arrow sinking into another soldier, and fired another arrow at him as he hit the ground. Longshot jumped aside and caught the arrow mid-flight, a stunned guard thanked him breathlessly.

Now they ran at eachother, plowing through the battlefield. Izumi loosed three arrows, killing three guards instantly. Seeing the attack, a waterbender hurtled a volley of ice spikes at her, but she grabbed one of the guards as they fell and used him as a shield. As the waterbender bended a stream of water from the ground Izumi leapt into the air and kicked him in the head, knocking him out. A swordsman tried to charge her blindly, swinging the blade with anger not skill. Calmly, she sidestepped and kneed him in the gut.

Catching his sword as he fell she hurtled it at a trio of earthbenders, piercing one of them through the chest. Furiously, the remaining earthbenders shot a pair of boulders at her, but she jumped over them easily. Spinning around in mid-air, she put two arrows to the string and coming full circle killed them both. As she reached for her quiver, an arrow came out of nowhere and smashed her bow into splinters. Shocked, she saw Longshot walking towards her, bow drawn and ready.

Izumi gritted her teeth, furious at having been caught off guard–and by a lowly criminal to boot. She watched him, her eyes full of hate, anxious to die, waiting for the finishing blow. Instead, he loosened the string and returned the bow to its quiver. She watched him for a moment, not understanding, then she saw the look in his eyes and it all made sense.

"Giving your opponent a fair chance, huh?" Longshot nodded. "Don't think I'll go easy on you!" She ran at him and punched at his face. Longshot blocked and pushed her back with the flat of his palm. Furious, Izumi roundhouse kicked him–he blocked her kick masterfully with his arm. She continued, undeterred, delivering an ensemble of kicks and jabs, none of them landing. When her breathing at last grew strained, Longshot switched to the offensive.

A sidekick to the chest, knocking her back. Blocking her uppercut, then giving a jab to her face. A right hook from her, ducking under her arm and a second jab to the stomach, Izumi stumbling back. Another jab for good measure, then a sweep to her legs, knocking her to the ground–his foot at her neck.

She looked up at him, furious yet beaten. It had been a good fight. Longshot could tell she was highly skilled, but something seemed to be holding her back. Regret? Perhaps. Only an emotion as powerful as that could make a trained killer sloppy.

"Hey, archer boy!" Longshot turned his head and saw Smellerbee cornered, sword at her throat. The battle around them had drawn to a close. Murakami soldiers now rounded up the survivors. Shen continued, "Throw down your bow and back away nice and slow. Or else your friend gets it!"

Longshot narrowed his eyes, but Shen pushed his sword closer, nicking Smellerbee's throat. "I mean it! Don't try anything stupid!" A thin trickle of blood came down her neck. Longshot stepped back, removed his quiver and dropped it on the ground, raising his hands in defeat.

Izumi leapt up and punched him hard in the stomach, bringing him to his knees.

"Longshot!" cried Smellerbee, Shen's sword digging into her neck. "You bastards."

"Relax." Shen smiled, "He just saved your life."

* * *

The elevator reached the top floor and Yakone ran out. People were rushing back and forth along the corridor. Some crammed into the elevator and took it down to join the fight. Others went for the stairs, desperate to escape. All of them were doomed and Yakone knew it. His only chance for escape lay with Kota.

Yakone ran straight for the main chamber and burst through the door. It was empty. Not hesitating he ran back outside and scanned the corridor. Spotting Kota shoving through the crowd, he ran to catch up.

"Out of the way! Out of the way you dogs!" Kota struggled to push his way through the human wall, mere feet away from his destination: a hidden maintenance elevator that went deep underground. From there a tunnel would take him to the outskirts of the city.

"Move aside you fools!" He bellowed. Suddenly everyone in the corridor stopped mid-stride. Kota continued shoving before realizing something was wrong. Everyone stood as still as a statue. Their limbs stuck in one position, faces frozen, only their eyes moved. A look of horror began to spread on his face.

An arm grabbed him and he turned around to see Yakone shout, "Hurry, sir. We have to get out of here!"

"Yakone?" Kota looked at him wide-eyed. "You're a…bloodbender?"

"There's no time to talk, sir. Please, we must hurry!"

"But how? The moon's not full."

"I'll explain everything later. Right now, we have to leave!"

The elevator descended slowly into the bowels of the building. Only a faint glimmer of light came from above, the shaft otherwise pitch black. Kota glanced at Yakone, still in disbelief. To think that all this time he had such a powerful bender in his employ! A bloodbender capable of simultaneously controlling scores of people and all without the aid of a full moon. Incredible.

When the elevator came to a stop, Kota pushed open the steel grid door. Feeling his way, he found a lamp on the ground and swiftly lit it. The small light gradually illuminated the dark abyss. Around them, the basement level was filled with construction materials and various tools. The air here was musty and metallic, but safe–for the moment.

"This way." muttered Kota and Yakone followed him wordlessly.

They went deeper and deeper into the bowels of the underground. Construction materials and tools gradually giving way to water and gas pipes, then finally emptiness. Yakone's eyes scanned the surroundings, warily.

"So tell me, how did you do that? Back there." asked Kota. "I thought bloodbending was only possible during a full moon."

"For most waterbenders it is. I don't know why I can bloodbend without it, I just can."

Kota scoffed, "You should've told me sooner! By the spirits, with your powers we could have crushed Akio years ago. Well we still can. When we regroup with the others we'll launch a counterattack, take back our headquarters, and kill these bastards. Then, with the Maelstrom ships we'll crush the Murakami once and for all. Of course, you'll lead the attack."

"Of course." Yakone smirked at his foolishness, but Kota went on, not seeing it.

"With you in the vanguard, destroying the Murakami will be no sweat. Then, with them out of the way, we can easily sweep away the rest. The world will be mine." Kota smiled, the scheme forming perfectly in his mind. "I'll make you my second-in-command, Yakone. You'll be one of the richest men in the Earth Kingdom–the world! There'll be so much money you won't know how to spend it!"

"I was always quite impartial to money. I prefer power."

Kota turned to him, laughing, "Oh don't worry, you'll have both! You'll be the second most powerful man in the world!"

Yakone nodded, "How much further?"

"It's just up ahead." Kota pointed at a heavy iron door. "It's all smooth sailing from here."

"Good." Kota froze in his tracks, his muscles tensing, limbs not responding. From the corner of his eyes he saw Yakone walk up and take the lamp out of his hands.

"What…what are you doing?" Kota croaked.

"You really are stupid aren't you, Kota?" Yakone smiled malevolently. "As if I would ever share power with you." Kota's eyes grimaced, he struggled to break free from the hold, but couldn't budge an inch.

"Stupid and incompetent." Yakone continued, "You had it all. Wealth, power, and yet you still failed miserably. You're not worthy of ruling this world. In fact you're not even worthy of life." Kota felt his heart tighten, pain gushing through his chest, the air spilling out of his lungs. "For years I've served you, taken orders from you, scraped and bowed to your every word. No more. With you out of the way everything is possible. The Syndicate will need a new leader, one far stronger and wiser than the predecessor. They'll welcome me with open arms." Kota's eyes began to grow red as the pressure on his heart reached the breaking point.

Yakone smiled, "Farewell, Kota." He felt his victim's heart burst in his chest and he allowed the body to slump to the ground. "Now, this city is mine."


	15. Spirits and Men

Ichiro tipped the teapot and gently filled the two porcelain cups to the brim. As the golden brown liquid slowly settled, he looked across the table at Katara. She was wearing the new pale red dress he had bought her and the folds of the fabric matched her figure to perfection. Despite her pregnancy, her belly had not swollen noticeably. What was noticeable was the wariness in her eyes. It had been growing steadily day by day and in his short absence from the capital it had become increasingly accented. Her thoughts and feelings, while normally an open book, today seemed covered as if by a veil. She's learning, Ichiro thought.

"I trust you got along well in my absence. The servants treated you well?" He asked, sitting down across from her.

"Yes, thank you." Katara smiled slightly, "You've been very kind to me, Ichiro."

"I only did what would befit someone of your stature. I only wish I could do more."

"Stature?" she said musingly. "And what stature is that?"

He arched a brow, "That of Fire Lady of course."

She shook her head, "I'm no Fire Lady."

"But of course you are." Ichiro said with a smile, handing her a cup which she took gratefully. "Like it or not, you're royalty."

She took a sip, "I was but…not anymore."

He watched her carefully as she put down the cup, still unable to read her. Then she looked at him with her deep blue eyes and inspite of himself, Ichiro felt something stir in his heart.

"I've heard you were recently promoted." Katara said, changing the subject. "Congratulations."

"Ah, I see word travels fast." Ichiro beamed. His triumph in Republic City had sealed his future. Upon his return, the Murakami's council was convened and Akio swore him in as his new Lieutenant. The other Family bosses had all congratulated him, albeit grudgingly. Only Boss Shuron remained silent. At that meeting his eyes had been cold and the hate ill-concealed, even more so than usual. Already, the Okura Family were putting pressure on his operations, trying to push him back. For the moment, Shuron's Family was still the strongest, but with Ichiro's newfound influence that would all soon change.

Perhaps Shuron will become a problem, he thought. The man was notoriously ruthless and Ichiro would not put anything past him, even the elimination of his fellow Murakami members. No matter, in time he would be dealt with. For now there were bigger fish to fry.

Taking a sip from his cup Ichiro said softly, "What if I could get you out of the Capital?" Katara looked up, her eyes a mixture of surprise and bewilderment. "With my newfound position I could arrange it."

"Akio would never approve." she said cautiously, "I'm his insurance against Zuko. He'd never let me go."

Ichiro put down his cup, "Akio need not know. Besides, you may not be as valuable as Akio thinks." Katara looked at him, puzzled.

"Forgive me, I meant no disrespect." Ichiro feigned meekness. "It's just that…well I thought you'd heard."

She furrowed her brows, "Heard what?"

"It seems Fire Lord Zuko has declared your marriage null and void." Katara felt as if a shard of ice hit her stomach. "And he is declaring Lady Lien Yun his royal consort until such time as the Fire Sages can declare an official divorce. He means to make her his new Fire Lady."

Katara bit her lip, refusing to believe it. Null and void, just like that. As if all those years were nothing to him. And already he had one of his whores in position to take her place. So was she finally free, Katara wondered? Zuko had a new Fire Lady, he no longer needed her. She should be relieved, right? And yet she wasn't. It enraged her how easily he had cast her aside–like an old robe. In spite of everything he had done, she had never expected this last great insult. From now on he was dead to her. What little feelings had remained from their years together turned to ash in her heart. Katara felt a tear slide down her cheek, but she forced back the rest**. No more**. She would shed no more tears for him or feel any regret. Her only regret was that she carried _his_ child.

She started, the thought coming unbidden into her mind. The overwhelming desire to purge herself of this last remaining part of Zuko. The only thing that still tethered her life to his. But no she couldn't. It was her child too, wasn't it? It deserved a chance.

"If you were to get out of the capital." Ichiro said, breaking through her thoughts, "Where would you go?"

Katara hadn't really thought of that yet. "To the South Pole I guess. Maybe to Republic City, my brother Sokka and a lot of my friends are there." Friends that I haven't seen in years, she added silently. Her life with Zu–her life in the Capital had made her drift away from all of them.

"I'd advise against that." Ichiro took another sip of tea. "The Fire Lord has many agents in Republic City and by the terms of the United Republic charter he still has authority there."

"But why would he want me?" Katara asked. "You've said so yourself, he's declared our marriage null and void. He has a new Fire Lady. What good am I to him?"

"He may have declared your marriage null and void, but the Fire Nation succession laws still stand. If your child is a boy he has a legitimate claim to the throne." Katara felt her heart leap into her chest, she hadn't even thought of that possibility. "Do you really think the Fire Lord could allow such a liability?"

"I…I don't want my child to have anything to do with the Fire Nation." she uttered with conviction. "I would never stake any claim to that vile throne."

Ichiro smirked, "As sincere as your words may be, Katara, fact is fact. I'm sure you know exactly what the Fire Lord is capable of."

Yes, she knew. The Harmony Restoration movement had shown her just how far he was willing to go. He was a true Fire Lord alright. Almost as bad as his father. She sighed, how had it come to this?

"How would you get me out of the capital?" Katara asked tentatively, still unsure whether or not she should trust him.

"I've _borrowed_ one of the Fire Lord's warships. In four days the navy will host an elaborate ceremony in honor of his birthday. We'll sneak you aboard then and quietly slip away."

"I see." Katara had forgotten all about the Fire Lord's birthday, not that she ever planned to celebrate. "And what would you tell your boss?"

"That you've become more of a liability than an asset." Ichiro saw her smirk, "Well it is somewhat true."

"Tell me, Ichiro." Katara said, becoming serious once more. "Why are you doing this for me? Why risk your life for mine?"

"Because…" He muttered, finishing his tea and setting the empty cup down with a clink. "Because I knew someone like you once. Someone who couldn't escape." Katara saw a glint of sadness in his eyes, but before she could interpret it he got up from the table.

"I've forgotten I have matters that need my urgent attention. Stay hidden for now and in four days you'll have your freedom. I promise." And with that he turned and walked away.

* * *

"I see." Sokka muttered gravely, as the trio finished their report. Smellerbee, Longshot, and Toph stood at the center of his office. The first two looked worse for wear, but Toph was as strong and eager as always. It amazed him how, despite the years, her personality had never fully changed. That on the inside she was still the same child who pushed him around during their time as Team Avatar. But she was definitely more of a woman now, tall and imposing. Chief Bei Fong, a name that instilled fear in all of Republic City.

If only they knew her as well as I do, he thought, how beneath that tough metal exterior she's as kind and caring as the rest.

"So what'll it be, Sokka?" she shouted impatiently. "I've got a hundred metalbenders ready to kick some serious butt. Just say the word and I'll rip this Muramaki Clan a new one."

As caring as the rest, he shook his head. "No, Toph, we can't underestimate them. Smellerbee and Longshot have seen firsthand just how ruthless these people can be. This is a new foe we face, about whom we know only bits and pieces. We can't rush to action."

"Aw common, Sokka! Your years sitting on that council have made you soft. If anything, we need decisive action right now!"

"Toph," He said, kind but stern. "You know I favor decisive action–" She began to say something, but he overrode her. "But only when that action will not have serious consequences."

"What consequences?" She challenged.

"Well for one thing, our intelligence suggests that the Murakami have close ties to several major corporations. Corporations that have built and maintain the United Republic of Nations."

"So? We can easily–!"

"Another," he continued. "Is that we believe they may be working closely with Fire Lord Zuko." At that Toph grew silent. The mention of their former friend stirred up long forgotten feelings–feelings of enmity and regret.

"Sokka." Smellerbee began, "If…I may be so bold."

"Please, Smellerbee. You're a close friend and I value your insight."

"Well, why not ask the Fire Lady–I mean Katara, to talk to the Fire Lord on our behalf? Surely Zuko would know how best to deal with the Murakami. And if they are working together, maybe we can reason with him."

Sokka sighed, if only it were that simple. He had heard just yesterday that the Fire Lord had officially ended his marriage with Katara–no doubt the Fire Nation Councilman would mention that at today's meeting. On the one hand, Sokka was relieved. At long last his sister could return to where she belonged and they could put the past behind them. Her relationship with Zuko had torn her away from both her friends and her family and the pain it had caused Aang had almost made him hate her for it, but he could never truly hate his sister. On the other hand, he thought, this latest development would doubtlessly have severe political repercussions. Zuko's support of the United Republic had been tentative at best. His familial ties with Sokka had stayed his hand from any military action, but now all that was history. The United Forces were still too weak to protect them and with the Avatar missing-in-action after his attack on the Fire Lord, Sokka could only expect the worst.

Then, there was the matter of Katara's future. He didn't know what had caused the abrupt end to her marriage, but he had his suspicions. Ever since Katara and Zuko had gotten married he had always thought their relationship would not be smooth. Zuko was a man of short temper and rash action. What's more he was inexperienced when it came to ruling. While Iroh was still alive he atleast had some form of guidance, but with his death everything spiraled out of control. If Katara was the reason for the divorce, Zuko would not let her leave so easily.

How complicated everything has become, Sokka thought wearily.

"I think for the time being, we must rely solely upon our own resources." he said at last.

"We should get in touch with Earth King Kuei." Longshot muttered, "And the Northern and Southern Water Tribes. If the Murakami Clan's actions reflect those of the Fire Lord, then he surely means to retake the former colonies."

Sokka nodded in agreement, but knew that even that would not deter him. "If Zuko truly means to move against us." he said, "I fear that even the combined strength of the other nations would not be enough to stop him. The Hundred Year War has left them severely crippled while the Fire Nation homeland is virtually unscathed. For now we must refrain from any open provocations. The Murakami Clan has not yet established a strong hold in this city, so we still have time."

"But with Tempest Kota dead, there's a large power vacuum for crime in this city." Toph pointed out, gritting her teeth, "Already several splinter groups calling themselves 'Triads' have begun to emerge. A group as big as the Murakami would have no problem moving right in."

"I suppose you're right." Sokka rose from his desk and turned to the window behind him. Through it he could see all of Republic City in all of its glory. The high rises reaching for the heavens, the massive suspension bridges, the monument to Avatar Aang, all of it finished in his mind and lit up like the stars. Was this not worth fighting for? "It seems we have no choice." he muttered, then turning back to Toph, "I want to meet with Yakone."

* * *

"Any luck finding her?" Zuko asked dangerously, the dulled pain and the haze of the opiates making him more rash than usual.

"No, your majesty." said Akio, noting the change. "My men have scoured the entire city and have not found a single trace of her."

"How is this possible?" Zuko raged, "I've sealed off the Capital, there was no way anyone could slip out. And you claim that bastard Aang hasn't left his room?"

"No, your majesty. He has been there for several days, meditating."

Zuko felt his fingernails digging into the palm on his good hand. Aang may not have been responsible for Katara's disappearance, but he was guilty nonetheless. It was because of him that now every day for Zuko was filled with pain. He couldn't even make love, though he had tried all forms of potions and tonics. Lien Yun had stayed by his side through all of it and he desired her now more than ever. No matter, the pain would pass, it _must_ pass. And soon they would be married and all would be right again. And when his men found Katara, he would make sure she payed for everything. For her betrayal and for sending Aang against him.

He was sure _she_ had done. A do-good holy man like Aang would never do something like that without provocation. Zuko knew now that he couldn't defeat the Avatar, not in combat, but he had other ways to make him suffer and he would start with _her_.

Akio smiled in his mind, seeing that all his hints and chosen words had led Zuko to the wrong conclusion. In this weakened state, controlling him was almost too easy. With Lien Yun soon to be Fire Lady his plans had all but reached fruition. Once she gave birth to an heir he would quietly get rid of Zuko and control of the Fire Nation would be his, followed shortly by the rest. Already, his agents had begun to infiltrate the inner workings of Republic City. With Kota out of the way, their control was all but guaranteed. There would be war of course, but it would not last long. He had close ties with the Earth Kingdom and the North Pole–it was under his influence that the Chieftain had refused to give Zuko water from the spirit oasis–they would not aid the Republic. The South Pole was still too fragile to pose any serious threat to him and even if it did he had agents there as well. The only real problem was the Avatar, but he had noted his interest in the hotel worker, Harumi, and had subtly encouraged it.

There were many methods of control, but women seemed to be the most effective. With Manami he had learned that all too well. Foolish of her to betray him–she and the infant had not died well. All the same, he did not feel much. He had come too far to let little things like that affect him and he still had a long way to go.

"And what of this Blue Spirit imposter?" Zuko asked, rubbing his temples. "Have you found him?"

"Imposter?" Akio echoed. "Are you sure he is not the real Blue Spirit? His tactics, not to mention his deadliness, certainly match those of the original."

"Yes, I'm quite sure." Zuko muttered testily. He had never revealed his past as the Blue Spirit and his friends–former friends–were all sworn to secrecy.

"I see." Akio nodded, "Well regardless, we have had no luck with that either. The Blue Spirit has not left any noticeable traces or clues and his choice of weapons and general profile would fit a thousand mercenaries in our city alone."

"And what of the information I gave you?"

"That his victims were all from the same unit?"

"And that they were all involved in a particular incident at the village of Shao Jin." Zuko looked at the small book the War Minister had given him shortly before his death.

"But by Choy's own account there were no survivors." Akio shrugged. "I'm sorry, your majesty, but all these clues seem to lead to dead ends."

"What of the survivor, Ryota?" Zuko asked, rapping his fingers on the cover of the book. "Choy believed he may have joined up with some criminal group–your area of expertise."

"Hmm," Akio stroked his chin thoughtfully, "I can't say I've heard of him, but then again there are a great number of groups and this Ryota may very well be a low ranking member. Nonetheless, I shall double my efforts."

Zuko nodded his head wearily, the opiate haze growing thicker around his mind. All he could think of now was his bed and sleep and the foolish hope that tomorrow the pain would not return.

"Are you well, your majesty?" Akio asked, the concern genuine. "If you wish, I can summon my physician. He is very good."

"No–no I'm fine." Zuko muttered, his voice a hoarse whisper. "Just bring me Ryota and find that Blue Spirit."

"Of course, your majesty. I pray for your swift recovery." Akio bowed low and walked out of the throne room. By the time he made it to the main corridor of the palace his mind was going over every detail of his conversation with Ryota.

"Blue Spirit?" He had almost laughed when Ryota first told him.

"I'm serious, my lord. He came for us for what we did. He got them all, my lord. And now I'm the only one left. I'm next, don't you see? You have to protect me!" The fear in his eyes had been genuine and that took away Akio's humor instantly. To see the usually fearless and rash Ryota a frightened mess meant the Blue Spirit had to be real–real and dangerous.

"I'll have you relocated to one of our safe houses, you must stay there, hidden. Tell your underboss to take over in the meantime."

"No, you don't understand!" Ryota cried, his hands shaking. "It's not of this world, nothing can protect me. Choy–the War Minister, he had a hundred guards from the Royal Procession and still it got to him. You have to speak with the Avatar, get him to protect me. You have to!"

"Calm down, Ryota!" Akio's eyes were stern and Ryota's fear turned to him. "This Blue Spirit, or whatever it is, **is** of this world. It's a human like any other. I'll have my best guards watch over you and I'm sure Ichiro will help as well. You have nothing to be afraid of."

"H-how can you be certain it's human? You've seen the way it kills, cold and merciless."

Akio smiled, "Oh but that's where you're wrong. You see, I'm cold and merciless." Ryota looked at him, unnerved. "And I can assure you these murders are anything but. The viciousness, the cruelty, the hatred, these murders all reek of emotion–human emotion. The Blue Spirit is human, however talented, and like all humans it can be killed. "

Ryota seemed to calm down for a moment, but his fear swiftly returned, "But, no one survived Shao Jin." He muttered. "No one could have escaped."

"It seems someone did."

* * *

The spirit world was much darker than Aang recalled, but then again he hadn't been there in so long he scarcely remembered. Overhead, the sky loomed dark and ominous and strange. It was that strangeness, a gnawing sensation in the back of his mind, that told him where he was. A soft rustle caught his attention.

"Roku?" he called, but there was no reply and the rustle moved further and further away. Looking around, Aang picked a direction and started to walk.

Interspersed throughout the foggy terrain were dark and twisted trees of all sizes. Some were shorter than him while others were nearly ten times his height. All of them were strange and unnatural. Sometimes, Aang saw something that looked like wings pass overhead and each time he expected to see Roku on his dragon, but each time he was disappointed. He wandered for hours and hours and only after the sun, or what passed for the sun in the spirit world, had begun to dim did he begin to wonder why–and how he came to be here.

All he could remember was returning to his rooms after the fight with Zuko. Battered and bruised, even worse on the inside and then–then he woke up here. Once more he called out to Roku, his past life, and once more he was answered by silence. If Roku didn't bring him here, who did?

"I'm afraid that Roku won't be joining us today." A voice from behind him called. Turning around, Aang instantly recognized the man before him.

"Avatar Kuruk?" he murmured, and the Water Tribesman grinned sullenly.


	16. Broken Lies

"Avatar Kuruk?" Aang looked at his past life in shock, "You brought me here?"

The Water Tribesman shook his head, "No, you came here yourself."

"I did?" Aang didn't understand, why would he come to the Spirit World, of all places? He strained his memory, but no matter how hard he tried to think back he couldn't remember anything past returning to his rooms.

"Perhaps you needed an escape." Kuruk offered, as if reading his mind, "The Avatar is the bridge between the spirit world and the physical world, sometimes traveling between the two is almost second nature to us. You wanted to escape your grief and here we are."

"And here we are." Aang echoed, "But wait…why are _you_ here, Avatar Kuruk?"

Kuruk sighed, "I'm afraid I've come to deliver a message."

"What kind of message?"

"Aang, you must resume your duties as Avatar." Kuruk's eyes grew stern, "You've been running away from them for far too long. The world needs its Avatar. It needs you now more than ever."

Aang grimaced, "Why should I? Everything I've done as Avatar has only made things worse. I ended a war and put a tyrant on the throne. I tried to restore the nations only to weaken them further–"

"–and you lost the woman you loved to a man who loves her not." Kuruk finished, "Toughen up!

"You think being the Avatar means you can't make mistakes?" Kuruk scoffed, "Don't be so naive. Do you really think your predecessors were perfect? Yangchen's obsession with peace kept the world in fear for centuries. Kyoshi's arrogance led to the creation of the Dai Li who turned Ba Sing Se into a den of corruption. Roku's compassion let Fire Lord Sozin wipe out the Air Nomads and begin his horrific war against the other nations. And I lost the woman I loved to Koh the Face Stealer because of my own recklessness. Do you think you're the only Avatar who's had it rough? The only one who's had to suffer? **What right do you have to run away?**"

Aang lowered his eyes, the truth hitting hard and deep. He _had_ been foolish, and naive to put his own problems ahead of those of the world. He had abandoned it all on a whim…but then wasn't he allowed to feel? To hurt and to love? Didn't he deserve to be happy like everyone else?

"I did run away." Aang admitted, "I betrayed the world. But it betrayed me first!" He lifted his gaze and his eyes welled up with rage. "After everything I did for them, everything I sacrificed, they went and stabbed me in the back! I would have gladly have done anything, given my life for them, but in their eyes I was disposable, a temporary convenience. Only a fool would have stayed!"

"No," Kuruk matched his gaze and Aang felt his anger wither and die inside of him, "Only a fool would have run away. If you were in Katara's position and you had to choose between the love of your life and your closest friend, would _you_ have been able to choose so easily?" Aang wanted to answer in spite, but deep down Kuruk's words were taking a hold of him.

Kuruk pressed on, "You know you couldn't, so imagine Katara's position. It wasn't easy on her, you know that. You know how it tore her apart."

"And what of Zuko?" Aang shouted, "Do you think he had the same dilemma? Do you think he hesitated for even an instant? The way he strong-armed the Harmony Restoration movement is a clear sign of his ruthlessness. And now he's moving against the United Republic. Even a blind man could see he's a second Ozai just waiting to happen."

"And to you plan to stand idly by until that does happen?" Kuruk challenged. "Your friend wasn't always like this. There was a time when he was a different man."

Aang scoffed, "Yeah, but that time's long passed. Even Katara knows that now."

A small leaf carried by the breeze blew past them and Kuruk caught it in mid air. Turning it in his palm he saw an ant clinging to the stem, helpless but determined. Turning his gaze back to Aang he asked,

"And what of Republic City and your friends? Do you really intend to do nothing to help them?"

"They're not my friends!" Aang cursed, "And the United Republic was never my idea. Zuko forced me into it. I tried to warn them this would happen, I tried to tell them, but nobody listened. I owe them **nothing**."

"So you're just going to run away again, is that it? The way you ran away from the Air Temple." Kuruk scoffed. "You're nothing but a coward."

"What?" Aang gritted his teeth.

"The other Avatars, they may have had their flaws, but they were never cowards." Kuruk narrowed his eyes, "They _never_ ran away."

Aang lunged at him and grabbed him by the collar, "The other Avatars had something worth fighting for! What do I have, huh? What do I have?!" He shook him, "In the end all your friends and allies will just stab you in the back! So what's the point? There's nothing in this world worth protecting. Nothing!" Kuruk continued to watch him, impassive.

"Are you so sure?" He asked, Aang looked at him in confusion as Kuruk gestured at a small pool of water a few feet away. "Take a look."

Aang let go of him and cautiously approached the water. The surface was calm with only a few occasional ripples. The water itself was grayish brown in texture and aside from bits of floating moss the pool was empty.

"I see nothing." Aang muttered, "Is this some kind of trick?"

Kuruk opened his palm and saw the ant still on the leaf, "Keep looking." He replied.

Aang obeyed, straining his eyes, looking deeper and deeper into the water. The ripples came more frequently now, the grayish waters were slowly coming alive, bubbling and frothing, a visible current was beginning to build. Then he saw it, reflected deep within the waters, like an image in his mind: a large city street bustling with people. Carriages sped along the center, tall buildings rose around it, he recognized it instantly as Republic City.

"What's the meaning of th–"

"Keep looking!" Kuruk commanded.

The crowds began to part as if Aang was weaving through them. People seemed to rush on past, vanishing as they touched the sides of the pool. Then all at once they stopped moving and the waters began to grow clearer. There was a woman walking towards him, she was young and beautiful, tan skin and blue eyes. She was dressed in Water Tribe clothes, but her face was obscured by her hood. Suddenly a child ran up and caught her hand–a little girl, small and fragile. She called out 'Momma' and the woman lifted her up and into her arms. Then the woman and the child began to draw closer, the vision in the pool growing larger and larger and at last Aang saw her face.

He stepped back, "No…no that's not possible!" He began to back away further. "It can't…It can't be."

"But it is, Avatar Aang." Kuruk smiled, "You need only take a closer look."

Aang forced his eyes to look into the pool once more and the truth at last sank in. She was the Water Tribe girl who had tended to him all those years ago and the child, the little girl in her arms, was his daughter.

Kuruk smiled and let go of the leaf, letting the ant and the petal drift freely in the breeze.

* * *

The Blue Spirit stepped lightly into the corridor, the ocean of blood echoing the sound of its footsteps. They were dead, all of them. There had been only ten of them this time, some of them decent benders, but it had made no difference. They weren't fighting for any purpose or cause. They were fighting for orders and that made them weak. The battle had lasted a few minutes and then it was over. Only one person remained alive, cowering in fear at the end of the hall, helpless and weak with nowhere to run.

Ryota backed up against the wall, his only way out cut off. The Blue Spirit flicked the blood of its swords and sheathed them in a single fluid motion. Its cold lifeless eyes latched onto him and he knew he was dead. Begging was pointless and so was running–he'd been running all this time. Running away from Shao Jin, that village and the massacre he could never forget. He had tried so desperately to convince himself that it wasn't his fault, that his commander had been responsible, but seeing that cold face and those lifeless eyes had at last convinced him otherwise. He deserved to die, they all did. It was retribution–justice. The thing he once stood for, back when he was an officer of the Fire Nation. Back when honor and glory came easily to him–but no more. After that day, everything he once held sacred and true had vanished into nothing and he had become the very thing he despised: a criminal.

The Blue Spirit reached out and grabbed him by the throat, its fingers tightening around his arteries, cutting off air and circulation. Ryota smiled, at last the end had come, the salvation he had secretly desired. Why had he been so afraid before? It all seemed so trivial to him now. His life, his death, all of it meaningless. But before he passed he had to know.

"Tell me," Ryota croaked with his dying breath, "Was it…worth it?"

His eyes glazed over and he slumped his head. In his last moments of life he thought he heard a voice answer, "Yes."

When the last beat of his pulse had passed, the Blue Spirit tossed Ryota's body aside. For a moment it stood there, not moving, the deathly silence permeating the hall. Then a laugh broke through it, and another, and another, much louder this time. The laughter gradually grew more steady and more manic, the voice jumping from low to shrill, the sounds only made more horrible by the closeness of the space.

The Blue Spirit keeled over and fell to its knees, beat its hands on the bloody ground, the laughter even more erratic. A short pause and the laughter began to break as the Blue Spirit's voice became more hoarse and broken. Soft drops, practically silent, dripped into the pool of blood at its feet. The drops mixed in with the blood and broke the dark red liquid, diluting it–they were tears and the laughter swiftly turned to crying. The Blue Spirit lept to its feet and clawed at the back of its mask, its fingers fumbling with the straps. At last they came undone and he swiftly tore the mask and the hood off his head and buried his face in his hands, crying uncontrollably.

Gradually, the sobs began to die down. The crying turned to shivering, then to short erratic breaths, and at last the noise stopped altogether. Wiping the tears from his eyes, Shen glanced at Ryota's corpse. It was done. He had achieved his vengeance. They were all dead, it was over. At last he was free.

Out of nowhere four arrows hissed through the air and pierced through his forearms and shoulders, pinning him to the wall. Shen cried out in pain. Regaining control, he tried to tear himself free, but a fifth arrow struck the wall a few inches short of his eye.

"Don't move!" Izumi strung a new arrow, "Or you're dead." He looked at her in shock then a second person emerged alongside her.

"Well well, looks like we finally have our elusive spirit." Akio smirked, "I must say I'm impressed with your skill. For a person of your age you show remarkable talent."

Shen watched them both wild-eyed, not even feeling the pain. His momentary catharsis had been ruined and he wanted nothing more than to kill them both.

Akio's eyes gleamed with amusement, "And your killing intent is palpable even from this distance, marvelous. Doubtlessly you're wondering why you're still alive. But even you must have realized that this was far too easy." Slowly Shen's eyes filled with apprehension.

"I let you kill Ryota. It was part of my plan. You see, I wanted to test your abilities–you passed." Akio motioned to Izumi and she lowered her bow and stepped away. "A skilled fighter like you is too precious to simply kill. That and your good pal Ichiro has vouched so strongly for your loyalty. Isn't that right?"

"Yes, it is." Ichiro emerged from behind him, his gaze drifting to Shen, his face a mask.

"So what do you say, Shen?" Akio smiled, "Will you stay with the Murakami and put those skills to good use? You'll be well rewarded, I promise, and your skills will continue to grow. What do you say?"

Shen's eyes watched them both, darting from the one who tried to befriend him to the one who tried to buy him–neither mattered. To him they were both nothing.

"Go fuck yourself." He spat.

* * *

"So Akio…was behind all of this?" Zuko felt as if his teeth were about to grind into dust. He had been tricked, this whole time he had been nothing but a puppet on a criminal's string. The flames around his throne burst into life, writhing like a pit full of snakes, scorching the very ceiling. Nervously, the man beside him stepped back as the flames lapped at the throne itself.

"That son of a….that worthless piece of…." Zuko tightened his fists until his rage broke through the opiate haze and eclipsed even the agonizing pain in his arm. "**AHHHH!**" The flames burst through the ceiling and shattered the roof of the throne room sending debris flying everywhere.

When the smoke had cleared Zuko was panting heavily. The murderous rage was retreating now and the realization sinking in. Everything that had happened, everything that he'd done, it was all part of Akio's scheme. That traitorous s–Zuko bit his lip to fight back the resurging agony of his injuries. He grabbed the medicine bottle by his side and drained it all, tossing the empty vial into the flames.

When the pain lessened and his nerves had calmed he muttered, "Do you know where he's keeping her?" The man stepped closer and the light from the flames illuminated his face.

"The Fire Lady?" Shuron smiled, "She's with one of his subordinates, a man called Ichiro, in the Harbor City. I can show you where."

"Good." Zuko took a deep breath, "General Hoto, General Nao."

The two men approached the throne nervously, the former was in charge of the Royal Procession while the latter was commanding officer of the Capital's guards. They bowed.

"You'll each take as many soldiers as you need and follow Shuron's men to the Murakami Clan's hideouts. You'll move quietly and wait until I give the signal. I want no prisoners, save for Lord Akio himself. I want his palace and all those inside burned to a cinder. No one is to be spared, understood?"

"Yes, your majesty!" They bowed once more and walked out.

"And as for you, Shuron," Zuko glanced at him, "I want your men to bring my wife to me, unharmed, is that clear? Use whatever methods you deem necessary, you know how best to deal with these criminals."

"Of course, your majesty." Shuron bowed, "And I trust you won't forget our little arrangement?"

"Yes," Zuko grimaced, "When Murakami Clan is eliminated your crime family will take their place in the Capital and you'll take up Akio's place at court."

"Thank you, your majesty." Shuron bowed once more and walked back down the Fire Lord's corridor.

Of course he wouldn't deliver the Fire Lady to Zuko. That would be a death sentence. Oh no, Shuron smiled, she'll be far more useful in my clutches. A simple word to one of the many agents in the Fire Lord's court and in Zuko's weakened state he could easily kill him. Then, with the Fire Lady and her unborn child in his grasp, the whole Fire Nation would be his. He'd had enough of serving lesser men like Akio, it was his turn to rule. Who knows, perhaps he'd even marry the bitch to make things official. She was still young and beautiful and he wanted to see firsthand just how feisty she was.

As Shuron's footsteps died away behind him Zuko turned his thoughts to Lien Yun, yet another tool that Akio had used to control him. Zuko chuckled, the opiates playing with his emotions, mixing rage with hysteria. To think he had almost made her his Fire Lady, how silly of him. Zuko laughed louder this time, his guards watching him nervously. How stupid he had been to think it was love–absurd! Well, he would make sure her death was especially horrible, for all the pain she had caused him.


	17. Son of Fire

Katara watched the crowds outside with a growing sense of longing. There were hundreds of them, simple people going about their morning routines. Some were rushing, some were angry, some were happily conducting business, and yet all were free, unlike her. She sighed and looked down on her swollen belly, her thoughts shifting to the child within. How she prayed it was a boy, a strong boy who would never know the pain she had. The world was too cruel a place for a girl.

"How are you feeling today, majesty?" The sound of the feminine voice caught Katara off guard, but when she saw the familiar face, with its Yu Yan tattoos, she relaxed.

"I'm fine. I haven't felt sick since yesterday."

"That's good." Izumi leaned against the wall beside her, "What were you thinking about?"

"I was just…" Katara glanced out the window once more, "I was just thinking how cruel this world can be, especially for women."

Izumi laughed, "That it can, majesty. That it can. But that's why we have to be strong, no matter what. Then the world becomes a better place."

"I don't think I can be strong anymore." Katara murmured. She felt so tired inside, sick and tired of the endless struggle of life. A struggle made all the more difficult by the child she carried inside her.

"Well you've made it this far, haven't you?" Ichiro smiled as he came up to the window. "No need to start doubting yourself now." Katara felt herself returning his smile, her worries temporarily forgotten.

He turned to Izumi, "Would you go check on the prisoner, see how he is?"

"Of course, sir." She bowed and left them alone.

"Prisoner?" Katara looked at him questioningly.

"Ah, yes." Ichiro smiled on the surface. "One of our own. Turns out I'm a poor judge of character after all."

"What happened?" Katara asked.

"That's what I've been trying to figure out."

Shen's refusal had displeased Akio greatly, but even so the wise head of the Murakami Clan had given the Blue Spirit another chance. One more day to make up his mind–not that it would make the slightest difference. When Ichiro had finally gotten to talk to him, one on one, he scarcely recognized his former companion.

"You and your Lord Akio can both rot for all I care." Shen had spat, as if the words were venom in his mouth.

"Shen, tell me what happened." Ichiro pleaded, "We're friends, you can trust me. Please, just tell me why. "

"I'm not your friend." Shen cursed, "And I don't owe you an explanation."

"They killed your family, didn't they?" Ichiro asked, watching him carefully, "At Shao Jin they–"

"**Fuck off!"** Shen slammed against the bars of his cage, his hands tied behind his back. "I don't need your sympathy and I don't need your help! They're dead and that's all that matters! They're dead and now I can die as well!"

Ichiro had tried to question him further, but Shen merely turned his back to him and faced the wall of his cell. He didn't say another word until he left.

"Tell me, when's the ship due to arrive?" Katara asked and Ichiro's thoughts returned to the present.

"This evening, but we'll have to wait for the naval ceremony before we can get you safely out of the Capital."

Katara sighed, waiting another day seemed like torture to her and even now she had her fears. Could she really trust Ichiro? She still didn't understand his true motives or why he was helping her.

"Are you anxious to see your friends?" Ichiro looked at her, his handsome face smiling. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

"Yes, it has." Katara didn't even know how they would react when they saw her. Were they still her friends at all?

"Don't worry," Ichiro said kindly, as if reading her mind, "True friendships survive for many years. Or so I am told. My friends tend to only care about money."

Katara felt herself smiling and gradually laughing. Ichiro joined her and together they filled the room with their laughter. Katara couldn't understand why she felt so happy around him. When she was with him the laughter and smiles seemed to come as easily as they had so many years ago–as they had with someone else. Katara stopped laughing and looked at Ichiro and once more she saw the remarkable resemblance. It couldn't be mere coincidence, she was sure of it now. She had to know. Katara began to ask him, but Ichiro interrupted.

"Katara," he said, his face growing serious. "I wanted to ask you…" He sighed and she instantly knew the question.

"I can't." she whispered and Ichiro grew silent. "I'm sorry, but I can't stay with you." She took his hand in her own, "Please, Ichiro, try to understand. This city…too much has happened here, I can't stay. I have another life to care for, not just my own." Ichiro turned her hand around, his eyes growing solemn.

"In a different world perhaps, you might have married me instead." he whispered, "But the Spirits gave it all to Zuko. The crown, the glory, and all that came with it."

"Ichiro, what do you–" A fire blast burst through the window and exploded against Ichiro's head, killing him instantly. The power of the explosion sent both of them crashing to the ground and debris flying everywhere. As smoke and dust flooded the room the attack began.

Katara recovered from the momentary shock and clutched her head until the ringing in her ears subsided. As she regained her senses she heard more explosions and sounds of battle raging all around the building. She jumped to her feet and glanced out the shattered window to see scores of men fighting outside–none of them wore Fire Nation uniforms.

It's not Zuko, she thought with a mixture of relief and confusion. Then her eyes saw Ichiro lying still on the ground and the relief turned to horror. She rushed to his side.

"Ichiro!" She shook him gently, but he didn't respond. His eyes were closed and unresponsive, "No…" She shuddered and looked around desperately for water. Among the splintered bits of wood Katara saw a broken pitcher and swiftly bended its water to her hands. Examining him closely, she quickly found the wound on Ichiro's head and pressed her healing hands against it. The water glowed, but the wound refused to heal. She tried again, harder, but the result was the same. There was only one explanation.

"**NO!**" Katara felt the tears coming into her eyes as she pressed her ear against his chest, praying for a heartbeat–nothing. "Ichiro..." She glanced upon his handsome face, calm as if only sleeping. The tears now streamed down her face, but she continued to watch him. He couldn't be dead, not him, not like this. Gone, before she could thank him. Before she could tell him how much he'd done for her. Gone without a parting smile.

"Your majesty!" Izumi's voice shouted from a distance. "Your majesty!" Her hands grabbed Katara by the shoulders. "He's dead, your majesty. We have to go. Now!" She shook her, but Katara didn't budge. "Majesty, please!"

Outside, Ichiro's men were beaten back. The remnants of his soldiers fell back inside and barricaded the door. Shuron's men finished off those still outside before resuming their attack on the building. Fireblasts, crossbow bolts, knives, and explosives rained down on the structure, but failed to make a dent in its defenses.

"We'll have to storm the building." Shuron cursed, "You there, take twenty men and reinforce those guarding the back streets and alleyways. I don't want any of them slipping out."

"Yes, sir." The captain and his men rushed off.

"What do you think, Tuzo?" Shuron turned to his Underboss, "Can we risk storming the building?"

"We outnumber them ten to one, so the odds favor us." He stroked his beard, "However, the Fire Lady may be injured in the attack and she may prove difficult to capture."

"What do you suggest?"

Tuzo smiled, "Appeal to her compassionate nature. You've heard how she tried to protect Akio's traitor wife. She's got a soft heart, she can't stand to see others suffer. Offer her a truce: if she surrenders you'll promise to spare the others."

"Spare them?" Shuron scowled. "So they can come after me later?"

"You need only promise it." Tuzo said, "Once she's outside and in our grasp, kill the rest."

* * *

Another fireblast crashed against the barricaded door. The defenders at the windows steadily returned fire, but one by one they were slowly cut down. All around, the situation was growing more and more dire. The end would come soon.

"Majesty." Izumi pleaded once more, "You cannot stay here, we have to get out." Katara looked up, her eyes red from crying. She began to say something, but Shuron's voice interrupted.

"Fire Lady Katara!" He shouted, "There's no need for further bloodshed, we've only come here for you. Come out now and no one else need die! Surrender and I'll let the rest go free!" Katara stood up and wiped the tears from her eyes.

Izumi grabbed her arm, "Your majesty, no! It's a trick! He knows he can't overpower you so he wants you to surrender. He'll never keep his word."

"I know." Katara gently removed Izumi's hand from her arm, "You told me we have to be strong no matter what." She looked her in the eyes and Izumi felt the strength deep within her, "When I get outside, I'll start a distraction. I want you and the rest of Ichiro's men to make a run for it. Don't stop for anything, understand?"

"But, your majesty…"

Katara smiled at her, "Thank you Izumi, thank you for everything." But Izumi knew the words had been meant for Ichiro.

* * *

Shuron saw the door to the building open slowly and the soldiers around him readied themselves for a new attack. Instead, as the door opened up all the way, Katara emerged into the street alone. Shuron quickly ordered his men to stand down.

"I want her taken alive!" He shouted, "No one is to harm her."

Four of his men approached her tentatively. One of them carried a rope in his hands. She watched them all, her face calm and without movement. They came closer still, all of them watching her in turn, reacting to the slightest motion.

She's mine now, thought Shuron with a smile, all mine. He'd decided he'd have her this very night, why wait? She'd be his prisoner for a long time, it's well that she grew accustomed to him and what he wanted. He watched her blue eyes watching his men, her ample chest breathing in and out oh so slowly. What a fool Zuko had been to let her slip through his fingers. He would not make the same mistake.

Katara saw the men closing the distance. They were less than a few feet away, but not quite close enough. Just a little further…She loosened her wrists and narrowed her eyes, her breathing becoming slow and shallow. The world seemed to slow down around her. Their footsteps echoed in the still air and every movement seemed to take an eternity. She took another breath, visualizing her attack, the smooth wavelike motion, her hands moving on instinct, flowing out in front of her, the attack a reality now. She saw the alarm in their faces as she began to–

A sudden crash broke through her concentration as several explosions burst all around her, the blasts nearly blinding her. She drew the water out of its skin and shielded herself from the flames. They were everywhere now, coming from all directions. The four men that had surrounded her lay on the ground, killed, but she knew not by whom. Then she saw them, scores of Royal Procession guards. Shuron's men were fleeing now, their master with them, but they did not get far. The second ambush finished the job as fire rained down on them from every angle. Shuron raised his hands as if to fight back, but his brain was already dead. His lifeless corpse fell to the ground, its eyes fixed on Katara.

"Your majesty." The guards surrounded her now, cutting off all escape. There were at least a hundred of them. Katara knew that even her master bending could not fight off so many soldiers–especially soldiers of the Royal Procession.

She lifted her hands in the air and the water fell to her feet.

* * *

Zuko stood pensively in the ruins of his former throne room. A calm autumn breeze blew into the chamber, rustling through the scaffoldings and covers, whispering like the spirits of the dead. Zuko laughed to himself, spirits of the dead, what nonsense. He tossed the empty medicine vial to the ground and rubbed his temples soothingly. By now it should all be over, he thought, the Murakami are dead and Katara is captured. Shuron was a fool to think he'd ever trust him fully. For a power hungry criminal like that the temptation would be too great to resist–though perhaps he had been loyal. No matter, Zuko thought, innocent or guilty he knew too much to be left alive. They all deserved to die for manipulating him.

Lien Yun had been difficult to kill. She had begged and groveled and pleaded so sweetly that he almost wished he could forgive her–if only to ravage her in that moment of weakness. Alas, his wounds and the opiates had left him incapable, at least for now, and he had given her to his men instead. He hadn't watched, he wasn't a savage who enjoyed that sort of thing, and when they brought him her head he merely nodded and told them to give her a proper funeral. For the few comforts she had given him she deserved that much.

Now, it was time he became the Fire Lord he was always meant to be. Not a fool, like his father. Not a sadist, like his father, but a true and wise ruler. He could be cruel, yes, he knew that, but he could be kind and gentle too. He just had to find it within himself. He knew it was there, somewhere deep within.

The doors to the throne room creaked open and Zuko turned his head. To his horror he saw Lord Akio standing at the entrance. His rich robes were tattered and burned in places, his silver headgear chipped, his features bloodied and dirty, but his eyes, which latched onto Zuko, were as cold and emotionless as ever.

"How…" Zuko heard himself mutter.

"I'm…resourceful." Akio smiled on the surface and stepped into the throne room, his assistant, Ume, shutting the doors behind him as the sounds of fighting raged in the corridor. "I've come to congratulate you on your victory, well played." Zuko's eyes widened and Akio chuckled. "I must admit I've underestimated you, _Fire Lord_ Zuko. You're more like Ozai than I thought. Killing innocent women and children, you must feel so courageous." Zuko grimaced.

Akio smirked at the reaction, "You're a true son of fire now, Zuko, there's no denying it. A shame you won't live to enjoy this day." He punched through the air and Zuko barely had time to avoid the fire blast as it exploded against a stone pillar, blowing off a huge section. Akio lowered his arm, his knuckles smoldering.

"You…you're a firebender." Zuko struggled to his feet.

"Hard to believe, isn't it?" Akio walked towards him. "A fact I've kept well hidden all these years, your spies aren't to blame." He darted forward and kicked a second blast at Zuko, but this time Zuko stood his ground and with his good arm deflected the fire away with all his strength.

"Bravo." Akio clapped his hands, "I see the Avatar was even less competent than I thought. But even with one good arm, you can't possibly hope to hold me off." He thrust both his hands forward and sent a powerful blast at Zuko. As the Fire Lord struggled to deflect it, Akio delivered an ensemble of fire jabs and finished it off with a devastating sweep. When the smoke cleared, Zuko was still standing. Part of his robe was burned away and his right arm was smoldering on the side, his injured left arm was in a high block over his head. Akio started,

"I thought that arm was useless." He hissed.

Zuko smirked, "Well I am Fire Lord for a reason." He thrust his injured arm forward in a left hook, Akio avoided the fire blast with a smooth motion, but Zuko had anticipated the dodge and with his right hand he jabbed left, hard and fast, and caught Akio unawares. The fire struck his shoulder and only Akio's swift reflexes kept the damage minimal.

He jumped back clutching the burn, "Looks like I've underestimated you." Akio scowled, "It won't happen again."

Akio darted forward and began his offensive. At first Zuko could predict the movements and countered with ease, but Akio soon switched his fighting style altogether. The attacks and footwork became unorthodox, the motions swift and rarely followed through. Akio's style was vicious, unpredictable, and Zuko was quickly losing ground.

A right jab, pulled back with a sudden pivot and Akio's elbow collided with his face. Zuko began to step back, but Akio vanished from his sight and only sheer luck allowed Zuko to parry the fatal blow from behind. Akio ducked low and pivoted once more under Zuko's guard and delivered a powerful uppercut that missed Zuko by a hair. The Fire Lord delivered a kick to his torso, but Akio easily caught his leg and threw him back. Zuko managed to land on his good arm and quickly returned to his feet, tired and panting.

Akio smiled, his expression sadistic, "You can't hope to beat me. Not in your current state. Your injuries are far too severe." He saw Zuko's panting and knew it wouldn't take much longer. The Fire Lord was on borrowed time.

"You know, I almost feel sorry for you." Akio continued, "The only one in your family unable to lightning bend, you must feel so weak." Zuko fired a blast at his face and Akio calmly sidestepped. "I can't even begin to imagine the emotional struggle within you. All those years of abuse and neglect followed by exile."

Zuko's eyes filled with hatred, but that only urged Akio on, "Then finally, when all the fighting was done, your struggle seemingly at an end, you found yourself stuck in your father's shoes. Fate certainly has a cruel sense of humor, doesn't it?"

"Shut up!" Zuko cursed, his heart pounding dangerously in his chest. He felt the pain coursing all through his body, his left arm especially. It was obvious he couldn't fight anymore. It was over.

Akio smiled, "Well allow me to put an end to all the jokes. To your joke of a reign, to your joke of a marriage, and to your joke of a life." Akio rushed at him, the fire burning in his hand.

Zuko closed his eyes, his life flashing through his mind as he picked out the cruelty and the pain and found all the happy moments–the times with Katara. Katara, the one who'd stood by him when all his friends had fled. Katara, the one who'd shown him how to live. Katara, the only woman he'd ever truly loved–the one he still loved. Katara…His body acted almost on its own, his arms moving in a circular motion, his mind completely at peace. The Yin in one hand and the Yang in the other, moving apart, then suddenly coming together.

Akio saw the lightning a moment too late, Zuko's eyes flew open as the cold-blooded fire leapt from his fingertips and into Akio's chest. With his dying breath, the crime lord managed to croak something inaudible before his corpse collapsed on the ground.

* * *

Shen walked calmly along the streets of the Harbor City, inconspicuous, not that anyone gave a damn. A short-sword dangled comfortably at his side, a gift courtesy of a thug who had crossed his path in an alleyway. The purse full of gold pieces in his hand was a gift as well, albeit from a different thug. With that money he could easily buy himself passage to the Earth Kingdom, Republic City, or any other land of his choosing. His life was his own now and it was full of possibilities. He could do whatever he wanted.

But he didn't know what he wanted. All his life he had been striving for vengeance, honing his skills, tracking down the murderers one by one. He had never given a thought to himself and what the future might hold. To do so now was overwhelming.

When the attack on Ichiro's headquarters had begun he had slipped out of his bindings and had overpowered the guard when he ran carelessly by his cell. From there he had weaved his way carefully through the battle, like a spirit, and now here he was. Free. But still as much a prisoner as he had been in that cell. Where would he go from here? To a normal life? He didn't want it. A home and a family? His home had been burned down long ago and his family was waiting for him in the afterlife. His father, mother, and his little sister. Once, the thought of her lying cold and lifeless on the ground had made him cry, not anymore. When he wept in that corridor, after killing Ryota, they had been tears of relief, not sorrow. He'd forgotten how to be sad a long time ago. Life seemed so empty to him now, devoid of feeling and devoid of purpose.

"Where you headed?" A voice asked out of nowhere. Shen spun around, sword in hand and saw Izumi standing behind him.

"What do you want?" He muttered, not lowering his guard.

"Ichiro's dead." She replied, "They're all dead, the Murakami's finished."

A glint of emotion came across his eyes for an instant before he suppressed it, "What's it got to do with me?"

"I just thought you'd like to know." Izumi shrugged, "You're no longer a wanted man and no one knows who you are but me."

"Then I suppose I should just kill you." Shen put the blade to her neck, "And then no one will know."

"But you won't." She replied, eyes boring into his. "You hate killing, don't you? You only kill for revenge."

"And self-defense." He sheathed his sword, "Of course you won't kill me either, will you? You hate it as much as me."

Izumi continued watching him, "What are you going to do, now that you're free?"

"Don't know." He turned around, "But it's none of your business."

"You're going to leave? Just like that? With your friend murdered."

"He was never my friend." Shen lowered his gaze, "It's not my problem." He continued walking.

"You're not as good a liar as you think." Izumi followed him, "You mourn his death, I see it in your eyes. You want to–" His sword was at her neck, the blade drawing blood this time.

"**What do I want?"** Shen cried, his inner turmoil clear as day.

"To honor him." she replied, "By saving Katara."


	18. Only Truth

The throne room seemed more cavernous than Katara remembered it. Its high ceilings and dimly lit walls felt all the more accented by the heavy damage they had sustained. In the far corners of the room Katara could make out only darkness and the only sound that echoed through the vast chamber was the howling of the wind. The Royal Procession guards ushered her in voicelessly, their spiked helmets and skull-like visors only adding to the desolate atmosphere of the place. With a loud and eerie creak the massive doors closed behind her as once more she was swallowed up by the Fire Nation Palace.

Katara felt an involuntary shudder creep down her spine, half from cold half from fear, the chill autumn breeze slowly finding its way into the chamber. The normally warm and musty throne room now felt more like her icy home in the South Pole. Katara rubbed her hands together as she walked, her fingers now cold and lifeless–like Ichiro. Like Manami, like Iroh, like her father Hakoda, and so many others. Everywhere she turned she saw only death and despair. How she longed for the past and her former friends. Back then it had all seemed so bright. Even with the War they had always had eachother and they had always had hope–now there was none. Now there was only Zuko and the child she carried within her, and whatever hope she had carried for her unborn baby was now long gone. If he killed her then it would never be born. If he spared her life, it would only grow up to be another son or daughter of fire. Either way she lost, there was no way out.

Despite the darkness of the throne room, her eyes found him soon enough, sitting on the steps to the throne, the flames extinguished. Zuko kept his gaze to the ground as she came closer. His skin was pale and instead of the Fire Lord's robes he wore a simple red tunic and matching bottoms. Zuko's hair was also missing the traditional golden crown and his features seemed strange to her, almost timid, his face was lined and weary and his eyes, as she came up to him, were filled with a strange emotion. An emotion she didn't immediately understand, but soon recognized, to her shock, to be grief. What had happened, she wondered.

"Katara," Zuko said, almost in a whisper. He raised his eyes slowly and sought hers, but she avoided his gaze, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. She had known him long enough to know his tricks, his subtle methods of manipulation. He would not control her anymore.

"Are you…hurt?" He asked.

"I'm not injured." Katara replied, cold but not angry, she could no longer muster the strength to curse him.

"Good." Zuko muttered awkwardly as he rose from the steps and walked down them to stand beside her. "I wanted to be sure you were safe." He tried to put his hand on her shoulder, but she angrily slapped it away. Katara saw a flash of pain cross his eyes and she felt the sudden urge to strike him again, but she knew better than that. She was his prisoner now and prisoners obeyed. A quick death was always better than a slow one.

For a while they stood there, silent and in their own worlds, each pondering the other's thoughts, the thoughts occasionally shifting to their child. The whole time they stood there, Katara noted the strangeness in him. He no longer seemed like the Fire Lord she had come to hate, but like Zuko–the real Zuko. The one who saved her life when they had fought Azula. The one who had comforted her when Aang left. The one she had loved. But that love is dead, she reminded herself, and looked away once more.

"I was wrong." The sudden words echoed through the chamber and rang in her ears and shook her world to the core. Zuko came up next to her and this time she met his gaze. "I was wrong, Katara, wrong about everything. I hurt you and I broke what we had. I was wrong and I'm truly truly sorry. I beg your forgiveness." He fell to his knees before her and Katara felt her breath stop in her lungs as she looked on in disbelief.

Zuko bit his lip and lowered his gaze in shame, "It would easy for me to say that I did what I did because of the throne and the crown. That my duties turned me into…into my father." He took a deep breath, "But it would be a lie. I did this, all of it, because of my pride. I thought that I could rebuild this nation, right my father's wrongs, I thought I was better than him." His body shuddered and Katara realized he was crying.

"I was a fool." He cursed, his voice breaking now, "I should never have taken the throne. I ruined everything, lost my friends and the woman I loved. You tried to help me Katara…but I wouldn't have it. You were the one thing that remained of my past life and I threw you away…" The rest of his words were lost as she knelt beside him and put her arms around his neck. As he wept in her embrace she looked on as the Fire Lord melted away and became the banished prince once more. When the sobbing died down, he raised his head and their eyes met for what felt like the first time in years.

"Katara…"he whispered, wanting to hold her now and never let go. With her by his side he knew he could be the ruler this nation deserved. He would end the rivalries and the constant squabbling, help finish Republic City, and bring the world back together. It was clear now that the Fire Lord could never do it alone. Ozai had tried and failed once Ursa was gone. The nation needed a Fire Lady like a child needed its mother and Zuko needed his wife by his side.

"I can't stay." Katara replied. She saw the hurt in his eyes and she put her hands on his shoulders. "You were right about one thing Zuko, I was never meant to be a Fire Lady. At heart I'm not a noblewoman. I don't relish the lies and the intrigues, I don't like to rule over others, I'm simpleminded, plain, peasant even. I don't come from an illustrious background and I don't pretend to be perfect, but I know where I belong and where my heart lies." She stood up and offered him her hand, "Come with me and leave this place. The world is vast, we can be whoever we want to be and live only for eachother. Forget your father's legacy; you're a better man than him. This throne, this palace, none of it is you. Let's leave together. Let's leave and never come back."

Zuko wiped the tears from his eyes and stood up as well. He smiled, a genuine heartfelt smile, and took Katara's hand.

"I wish I could go with you," Zuko muttered wistfully, "But my place is here with my people." He released her hand, "You're wrong, I'm not a better man than my father, but I'll try to be, I swear it." And she saw in his eyes that he meant every word.

"I know I'll never see you again." He continued, "But I'll love you, until my dying day. I'll nev–" Katara silenced him with a kiss. There was no more need for words or apologies. They knew everything there was to be said. The kiss was slow and tender and full of love and she forgave him from the bottom of her heart. When at last they parted, the past was behind them.

"You must escape the capital this very night." He warned, his voice growing stern once more, "With Akio dead, the remnants of the Murakami will do anything they can to regain their position and I'll bet the nobles would gladly conspire with them to try to control me. You'll never be safe until you leave this city. Is there anyone in the capital you can trust?"

"Aang." She suggested.

Zuko shook his head, "My spies report that Aang has already left the Capital and thanks to my crackdown on the Murakami almost all of the Royal Procession are spread fighting throughout the city. And we can't rely on the ordinary troops. They're too easily pay–"

A blast shattered a hole in the ceiling and a dark figure leapt into the room. As the dust storm quickly settled Zuko saw the Blue Spirit standing before him, a rope in one hand, Katara in the other. Overcoming his momentary shock, Zuko darted towards them, but an arrow struck the ground before his feet, stopping him dead in his tracks.

"Don't move, your majesty!" Izumi shouted from above, a new arrow already on her bow.

"Izumi, what are you doing?" Katara shouted.

"Getting you out of the Capital!" Izumi replied, never flinching, "Ichiro died before he could help you escape. We owe it to him to carry out his final orders." Zuko tried to step forward, but she loosed another arrow, closer this time. "I said** DON'T MOVE**!"

"Zuko, it's alright!" Katara cried, taking the Blue Spirit's hand willingly. "This is my only chance, please let me leave with them."

Zuko lowered his guard and the Blue Spirit began to tighten his hold on the rope. Suddenly Zuko shouted, "Wait!" and ran to his throne. Reaching behind the chair, he emerged with a pair of broadswords and ran back.

"Take them." He urged, holding them out to Shen. "They belong to the Blue Spirit, use them well." Shen took them from his predecessor wordlessly and merely bowed his head in reply.

"You've honored your family." Zuko assured, "Now, honor yourself."

On the roof Izumi kicked a lever and the pulleys reeled in the rope. With a last silent glance, Katara and Zuko said their farewells before Katara and Shen vanished into the falling darkness, leaving Zuko alone once more.

* * *

Darkness fell across the Capital as the moon was obscured by gathering clouds. The streets of the city were empty and devoid of even the ever present guardsmen. Sounds of fighting echoed in the distance, but on the serpentine main street everything was silent as the grave. Katara felt her heart beat faster and her body tense up–something was wrong. It was never this quiet. Not on the main street. They had slipped out of the palace with hardly any trouble at all and had fought their way past several ambushes in the Eastern District unscathed. Now they were well outside the crater and deep within the Harbor City, but on this final stretch Katara couldn't escape the feeling that a greater danger awaited them.

Stopping suddenly, Shen held up his hand for them to wait. Izumi strung her bow and the three of them hid behind a building. Shen turned to Izumi and made a side to side motion with his hand and she grudgingly put away her bow. In the blink of an eye he was gone and Katara shot Izumi a questioning glance. Izumi merely put a finger to her lips and motioned to the street.

Katara saw nothing in the pitch black of night. The street lamps were not lit, despite the late hour, and her eyes were not trained to see in the darkness. Then she heard it, a slashing sound, followed by two thumps and then out of the shadows, the familiar Blue Mask appeared a few feet away, fanged and grinning. Shen motioned them to follow and they slipped into the night once more.

Even though he was helping her, Katara could not help but feel uneasy. She had spoken to Shen on several occasions and Ichiro had talked of him often, but she had never suspected his true nature. Even Akio paled in comparison to Shen's bitter ruthlessness. Could she really trust such a man?

"Get down!" Izumi pushed her to the ground as a volley of fire blasts lit up the street. Before Katara could regain her feet, scores of street fighters dressed in black charged at them. Shen leapt in front of the attackers and cut down four enemies with a single slash. Izumi was making short work of them as well, covering their back as she loosed three arrows at a time.

"Move!" Shen barked as he created a temporary gap in the human wave. Izumi helped Katara up and ran through the breach. The attackers were hot on their tale, firing carefully aimed blasts at both of them, wanting to take Katara alive.

Shen reached inside his sash and shouted, "Keep running!" As Izumi and Katara rounded the block he hurtled a handful of small spheres at the ground behind him.

The flashbangs caught their attackers off guard, stunning many of them. A few who managed to stay on their feet followed them around the corner where Shen's throwing knives finished them off. Turning down a second street and vanishing into the alleyways, the trio was once more in the clear.

In the back of a small restaurant, Shen at last caught up with them. Both Katara and Izumi were leaning against the wall, panting heavily.

"Are either of you hurt?" He inquired. Izumi shook her head, but Katara remained pressed to the wall, breathing heavily.

"Your majesty?" Izumi peered at her and fought back a curse.

"What is it?" Shen tore off his mask and came closer. He soon saw the cause of her distress: part of Katara's dress was torn and a deep burn had scorched the flesh near her abdomen. "Son of a…" Shen pushed Izumi aside and inspected the wound more closely. From what he could tell there wasn't much blood loss and the damage wasn't life threatening–for now–but he also knew that a wound like that took away any possibility of running and any chance of escape.

"I…I can heal it." Katara said through clenched teeth.

"Don't!" Shen reached into his sash and pulled out a small vial, "If you use your remaining energy for healing you'll only lose consciousness." He tore off a length of his sleeve, poured the vial onto it, and pressed the makeshift dressing to her wound. Katara cried out in pain, but he held the dressing firmly in place. "Izumi, give me another rag, now!" The archer did as she was told and tore off part of her pant leg and handed it to him. Shen wrapped the bandage around Katara's waist and tightened it to hold the dressing in place.

"Wha-what do we do now?" Katara muttered weakly.

Shen tossed the vial into the street, "We're still a few blocks from the harbor and I'll bet by now they've got that whole place guarded like a war zone. We'd be walking right into their hands. Under normal circumstances we might have slipped through, but now…" He sighed and slumped against the wall, "It'd be suicide."

"Maybe," Izumi's eyes narrowed, "But not for all of us." Shen saw the look on her face and instantly knew what she was thinking.

"No. Izumi, there's got to be a better way."

"There isn't." She replied and smirked, "What's the matter? Don't tell me you're going soft on me."

"This isn't a joke, Izumi." He cursed.

"You're right, it's not." She lowered her gaze, "I want to do this. It's my choice."

"Izumi please!" Katara fought back her pain to approach her, "You can't sacrifice your life for mine. I won't let you!"

"Your majesty," Izumi took her by the hands and smiled her first heartfelt smile, "You have to let me do this. I've been a soldier all these years, killing for those who thought me disposable, and never once was I given a choice. These hands," She drew them back, "They're so stained with blood, I can scarcely bare to look myself in the mirror. But now…now I can finally do what I know in my heart is right. This world has no place for trained killers like me so please, let me die honorably. Let me die protecting the people I care about."

"Izumi…" Katara wanted to say something, but the right words escaped her, and before either she or Shen could react, Izumi had rushed out into the open.

The sounds of fighting erupted around them and Shen rushed to Katara and lifted her onto his back. Running away from the battle, Shen skirted the main streets and stuck to the alleyways and the shadows. Despite his burden, he ran at an almost impossible pace and his footsteps were as soft as whispers. The few men watching the alleys didn't even notice them as they closed the distance to the docks. All at once, the sounds of fighting stopped abruptly, and Katara felt Shen's breath catch in his throat. Nonetheless, he continued running, never looking back, never leaving the shadows until the warship was in sight. The crew had snuck it past the Fire Navy's patrols and had docked at an unused wharf at the edge of the harbor. Shen checked to make sure the coast was clear, then sprinted with all his remaining strength, not stopping until they were over the ramp and in the bowels of the ship.

Slowly, and with a metallic rattle, the spiked prow reattached itself to the bow of the ship. Weighing anchor, the hulking vessel waded out of the wharf and into deeper water. Picking up speed until it could go no faster the warship vanished into the darkness of the night.

Shen placed Katara down gently on the floor before slumping down beside her, out of breath. It was a miracle that they had made it. A miracle they owed to Izumi. If only they could have all made it here together, he thought bitterly, but once more fate had chosen a crueler path. As he regained his breath, Shen became aware of the eyes watching them and turning his head he saw the crew of the ship surrounding them, armed and blocking all exits.

"What is this?" He demanded, "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" One of them replied with a twisted grin, "We're just hauling in the cargo."


	19. The Spirit of Hope

Shen looked at the crew bewildered as they surrounded him and Katara from all sides, blocking of all the exits and with them any hope of escape. He glanced furtively at Katara breathing heavily beside him, her bottom lip trembling as she eyed the weapons in their hands and the cruelty on their faces. She knew the end had come–she felt it. Shen narrowed his eyes as the circle around them grew tighter–desperate for an opening.

"You know you don't have to do this." He said calmly as his hand grabbed Katara's, "Whatever you've been paid, her brother, Chairman Sokka, will surely double it."

"Tempting…but no." said one of them, he wore a dark blue headband and carried an axe and from the way the others were behaving Shen guessed he was the leader. "I'm afraid the nobles have offered us much more than coin–a royal pardon–and that's worth more to us than anything you could possibly offer."

Shen's other hand inched closer to his sash, fingers reaching for the one flashbang he had left.

"Don't bother with that." said the leader, his axe pointing at Shen, "Much as I'd prefer to sell her majesty to the nobles alive there are just as many parties who'd pay a fair amount to see her dead."

Shen's hand fell to his side.

"That's right, just take it easy." The men behind them were now less than an arm's length away, their weapons steadfast and unwavering in their hands.

"Keep calm, there's no point in doing anything stupid."

Shen saw that there was no opening, had he been alone he would have killed them all by now, but with Katara the way she was he was at a major disadvantage. Damn it, he cursed, I promised that I'd get her out of the capital, that I'd keep her safe, but there's just no way, it's impossible. Slowly, he bowed his head in defeat. The battle to get on the ship, the death of his friends, the death of his family, all of it weighed down on him now, destroying what tiny pieces of hope he had. It was over…

And then he saw it. A faint glimmer in the darkness of the hold. Far away at first, but coming closer and closer until the shapeless glimmer assumed the form of a boomerang that flew in and slammed the leader full force in the head, knocking him out. The momentary distraction was exactly what Shen had needed, throwing the flashbang at the ground he stunned the rest of the crew and with his broadswords cut a path through the human wall to freedom.

"Hold on tight!" He cried as he dashed through the opening and into the main corridor, Katara on his back.

"W-what's going on?" She murmured.

Seeing the boomerang return and land into an outstretched hand in front of them, he replied, "Looks like help's arrived."

"Katara!" Sokka cried eagerly, then glancing at Shen, "And some guy I've never met before…who are you again?"

"He's a petty criminal." Yakone answered from his side, "Almost killed me back in Republic City."

"Who're you calling a petty criminal, Yakone?" Toph said with a smirk, "Last time I checked you were one yourself."

He scoffed, "As if."

Hearing the familiar voices Katara craned her neck, "Sokka…Toph? How did you…Where did you…"

"It's a looong story," Sokka said with a smile. Behind him the remaining crew had recovered from their momentary shock and now charged at them furiously.

"And one I'm sure you can tell over tea some other time! Now move!" Yakone barked.

Needing no further encouragement the five of them rushed down the corridor, through the bowels of the ship and up onto the deck. On the surface Smellerbee and Longshot were fighting off ridiculous odds and only barely managing to stay alive.

"Heads up!" Toph shouted as she metalbended a massive catapult and brought it down on a large group of men. Seizing the opportunity Longshot fitted four arrows and brought down just as many men while Smellerbee covered his back and killed three more with her knives. Sokka and Shen were immediately forced to join in the fight, the former Blue Spirit remained largely on the defensive due to the burden he carried, but nonetheless succeeding in holding his own against his attackers. Yakone reluctantly fought as well. Using his waterbending to great effect, he swept scores of men overboard, but remained reluctant to use his secret ability–deciding to keep it hidden unless absolutely necessary. Yet even with their combined strength the group was still heavily outnumbered and was forced to gradually give ground. By the time the pursuing crewmen from the hold had caught up with them the situation was dire.

"This doesn't look good!" Yakone spat as he brought down two more men with a water sweep, "Where's that damn flying beast of yours?"

"He'll be along any minute!" Sokka replied as he put away the bison whistle and parried a spear thrust with his sword.

"Perfect." Yakone scowled as he grabbed one of his attackers by the neck and unnoticed by the others, bloodbent his arties till they burst.

As the additional men poured onto the deck the attackers managed to cut the group off from one another. While the others were still able to hold off the overwhelming odds, Shen's strength finally began to give out. His own injuries coupled with the burden on his back were draining him and with each passing moment he grew weaker. When one of the crewmen slashed at him with a scimitar he barely parried it in time and the follow up strike from another attacker cut deep into his arm, barely missing a vein.

"Fuck!" Shen cried and furiously battered the crewman until he broke through his defences and cut him down. No sooner did his opponent fall than his comrades struck from all sides forcing Shen to retreat once more.

"Please, put me down." Katara whispered, "There's no need for you to die. Run, save yourself."

"I'm not finished yet!" Shen charged at them once more, his sudden ferocity catching them unawares as two more fell to his blades. "I'm not going to leave you, I swore that I'd protect you and I'll die before I give you up." He parried desperately as the crewmen pressed the attack once more. His arms now felt like they were weighed down by stones and his legs buckled underneath him, yet still he fought on.

"Damn it Sokka, where's Appa?" Toph cried and as if to answer her a familiar roar echoed through the sky as the flying bison flew full speed towards the ship.

"About fucking time." Yakone cursed.

Seeing a chance to escape at last, Shen began to push to regroup with the others. At that very moment he heard a hush through the air, the sound of a throwing knife aimed at his back. As he turned around to stop the blade, his weakened senses made the tiniest miscalculation and instead of being blocked by his sword the knife buried itself in his chest.

Katara felt the tremor course through Shen's body as he fell suddenly to his knees. Still dazed from her own injuries she didn't immediately notice his wound, but soon enough she saw the knife handle and the dark blood oozing out and her face went pale.

"Shen…" she breathed, falling off his back as he doubled over in pain. "Shen!" she echoed, tears welling up in her eyes as she saw his life pouring out from the fatal wound.

"He's down!" shouted one of the crewmen, "Take her, now!"

Before they came any closer Shen twisted around and slashed them away with his sword, his eyes filled with the steadfast determination of a dying man. Pressing his free hand to his chest in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding, he clambered to his feet and parried an attack before cutting another man down. The crewmen froze in their steps, amazed at his continued ferocity, a few of them even stepped back.

"Don't you see he's dying!" one of them shouted, "He can barely stand. Kill him!"

Once more they charged and Shen desperately fought them off, exhausting his last vestiges of strength. He blocked a spear thrust, ducking low to avoid a chain scythe that passed harmlessly over his head. Springing back up he swept aside a pair of throwing knives, before thrusting his sword into another man's chest. At that moment his body suddenly gave out as his limbs grew numb and his vision went red.

"**SHEN!**" Katara screamed as a spear impaled him through the stomach. Another spear followed suit and a sword. The light went out of Shen's eyes as his corpse fell unceremoniously to the ground. His lips moved as if to say something, but no sound came out.

Tearing his sword from Shen's body the crewman turned to Katara, "And now for her majesty."

Katara raised her hand in a waterbending motion but nothing happened, she was too weak to bend. The attackers laughed at the failed attempt as the one with the sword raised his blade and walked towards her menacingly.

"End of the line, majesty."

All of a sudden a powerful blast of wind sent him flying as Appa slammed his tail onto the deck as he landed, scattering the crewmen and cutting a path through for Sokka and the others.

"Run!" Yakone ordered and the others hastily obeyed. Longshot and Sokka lifted Katara onto their shoulders and with all their remaining strength ran towards the sky bison

As soon as their feet touched the saddle Sokka shouted ,"Yip yip!" and within an instant they were safely in the sky.

Collapsing into the saddle, Toph mopped her brow with the back of her hand, "Remind me to never try that again."

"Same." Yakone muttered, then turning to Sokka, "I trust our deal still stands?"

Sokka nodded his head as he tried to catch his breath, "In exchange for helping us…you and your organization will be given immunity... as well as government support in taking down the other triads."

"Excellent. To be fair I've earned it, using my spies to find out about this plan as well accompanying you in person, I'm only surprised you haven't made me a councilman for my heroics."

"Don't press your luck, Yakone." Toph said testily, "You're still a scumbag as far as I'm concerned and if you give us even the slightest hint of trouble I promise I'll personally take you down."

Yakone smiled, "Why Chief Beifong, if you really wanted a date all you had to do was ask."

"Why you!" Toph's face flushed with anger and Smellerbee and Longshot struggled to hold her back.

At the tip of the saddle, Katara sat somberly at the edge, gazing down into the dusky waters below. Her eyes were dark and on the verge of tears, but she didn't have the strength to cry. She had been through so much in the past few weeks, so much pain and suffering and loss, and yet all of it seemed so far away now, like it was all a dream–a horrible nightmare.

"Katara." Sokka sat down beside her, "I'm…I'm sorry about your friend."

She continued to look down at the water, despondent.

"I can't imagine how you feel after all that's happened…but I want you to know that I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you. I'm your brother and no matter what happens I'll always love you." Sokka saw her turn her head and smile at him weakly, her eyes barely open.

The truth was she wanted to say something to him, to tell him how thankful she was that he'd come, to tell him about all the agony she'd been through, about Zuko, about Aang, about her child. She wanted to tell him everything, but right now she didn't have the strength. Right now her mind was drifting miles away, years away, to escape from the pain. The cold air gradually turned to summer, the black ocean became a field of fire lilies, and the crescent moon filled out and became the sun. She was in the Palace gardens, young , full of hope, and utterly happy. Zuko was beside her, a carefree smile on his face, his fingers entwined with hers. Ichiro was there too, and Shen, Izumi, Manami, Aang–her dearest friend once more. Everything was as it should have been, but it was all just a dream.

As Appa soared higher and higher into the clouds Sokka covered the Katara with a blanket. Her sleeping face was serene and calm as they flew towards Republic City and their future.

**THE END**


	20. Sequel: City of Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> City of Glass: Sequel to Prince of Lies

Hi All! If you enjoyed this story, be sure to check out my new stand alone sequel **City of Glass **. Be sure to leave a comment and let me know what you think!

-Gongsun Du 


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